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Rough Sketch
O’ Pencil, you just love to leap
And zoom and skip and dance
Atop the bleached expanse of nothing
Other than the cold
This land is far from fantastic
One may call it an eyesore
Yet your soul commands to get to work
To bless its utter blankness
O’ Pencil as you set your tip
To the ground you usher whispers
A fruitful blessing to this Earth
Which no sane creature can refuse
The land below you flows like water
And soon becomes a sea
With ripples and trickles that reach my heart
And satisfy us both
O’ Pencil don’t your wrinkling waters
Have more than enough to share?
Let the ocean lull the soul
Of a fisherman ashore
Now your tip is getting worn and dull
Your eraser is much shorter
The true light outside is falling
I think now it’s finally curfew
O’ Pencil your help was much appreciated
By my peers as well as me
Thank you for all your work and aid
In drawing my late-night sketch
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