Turning thin pages and

Eyeing black ink words

Brings me visions great and small

Of lands galore created by the

String of words before me.

And then I call upon

A writing soul within

Which grants me the power

To use a pen

And set it to the paper.

And thus are stories and books created

As others pass down

The talent to twist

A group of words

And make a well-writ tale.