It begins with a slight dangle of a feather ~
Weighted above the well, a pen gracefully dips into the ink.
The desk is properly fitted, adequate for such tasks;
Riveted, the manuscript exhales letters, as the protagonist begins to think.
Flowing verse of midnight darkened, steep the finesse of revolving hands,
Uplifted like a flag in the curiosity of a pioneer.
Coastal winds whisper into the ear, and in the heart,
Transmogrified, the dullard has become a seer.
Sparks and flashes radiate from the pages,
Bringing life to a dream once heard of -
Many strange things both bizarre and unseen;
Ships upon clouds, horses running wild atop the surface of the sea!
Festivals fit for giants, Gliding masts of trees befriended,
To the pits of canyons smoldering, projecting gems and jewels from their crevices!
Shimmering awe, perfection attained, the master has taught his dues.
Never to be estimated, under or over, the efficacy of a color\'s hue.
Heaps of crystal would not outweigh the integrity of such artistry.
Nor for coin, not even for fame -
No person alive, a person deceased, shall ever
Put a face to the name.