Again and again I stay
Again and again I sigh
Again and again I pay
Again and again I try
Again and again I pray
Who will visit me
Maybe a bee
Or leaf fallen from a tree
There is a possiblity
It may be a dignitary
On this bright Spring day
Or a tired child at play
Come what may
Night or day
All are welcome
Not just some
So whether King or Bum
I don’t care where you’re from
If you’re passing by
Please sit and say “Hi”
And a dry Bone held in a hand,
Draws word pictures in moist clay.
A Reed blowing in a Egypt’s land,
Is used to scribe events of the day.
And Romans, in their culture so grand,
Invent the Stylus, so they say.
Anglo-Saxons cleverly planned,
To write books using a Quill as a way.
Then upon the world’s Grand-Stand,
The lead Pencil’s design is put on display,
Yet, Pencil writing was undermanned,
So ink Pens were created in various array.
But, for all those invented, both great and bland,
The Finger is still used to text and sign today.