When I Write

My thoughts I feel through my pen flowing
Forming words of intellect and zeal:
Cause when I write I see
My words stretching into fields
Fresh green and sweet smelling.

Flowing as rivers and bubbling Brookes
Cascading down as water falls.
The dreams and fancies
Changing into vivid reality,
Visual to mine eyes and others.

Dark  greys and blacks
Springing forth into beautiful blues
And so many myriad hues:
As my imagination takes flight
I find myself standing tall
            Gazing out into that picture perfect
            Amidst them all;

  Thus when I write on my book of gold
  With a pen to match,
The words flow on and cover the page:
Lingering on like glow worms in the dark
Momentarily lighting up my darkest hour.
A fleeting moment of complete control
I presume to have attained.

When I write I become:
Master ruler controller,
Of my feelings thoughts and so much more:
But when from the reverie I awake:
Only to realize that,
When I write on this my book of gold
I am but the pen my master holds.

~V Tejaswini~

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