Anatomy Of The Word

The hand that inks the essay,
The words of wisdom all that lay
Upon the page to rage and say
The things that bring such joy to me.

The eye that seeks and finds a way
To sob the story, come what may,
As thoughts and themes run wild, astray!
This eye will try to always see.

The heart that beats without delay
And rhymes the lines that dance and sway
And bound and sound as blithely they
Never, ever, silent be.

The mind that minds his words today
And savours them, for e'er to stay
Within his soul, then he may pray
His mind will see ~ mere words are we.