The Dancing Parker

The breaking of my Waterman,
sent me to Ebay once again,
and bid after bid,
pen after pen,
I won a beautiful Parker with a golden green grid.

With my Parker and journal,
my vision became clearer,
and my heart grew fonder.
The pen started to dance on the soft clairfontaine;
my hand was just along for the ride.

Although I know many came before me with this ancient instrument of love,
this pen and my hand were fused as one,
dancing the timeless tango,
each step flowing gracefully into the next
as lines of poetry were left on the page as an afterthought to this personification of love.

This pen of the Beloved,
the ink flows like the Nile,
the golden nib glistens while it slowly bleeds and cries,
the pain of love is visible to all who see where this pen has been.
and like all pens this too shall dry up one day,
when the dancing Parker can no longer sing.

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