Composed 06-23-2016
By Ai aka Aileen McPherson
On Writing
To write or not to write, is that even a question?
My writing as other art forms happens, as gentle as spring dew kissing flowers in April, to the thundering tsunami threatening devastation.
No special place is needed merely the precious tools of thy trade. Glorious pen, quill, brush, or lead, joined by ink, paint, paper, or other canvas of choice.
Tools and a thought, sometimes it’s all ya got.
Let my words be true,
My heart honest,
My mind always open.
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