Paper, Pen and Ink

With paper, pen and ink I began to think
of a story that I could write.
Or maybe a verse or two about something new,
something original, fresh and bright.

I sat and thought but thought of nought
a stretched circle full of nothing.
A mist came down and I could hear a sound
that sounded like water lapping.

It was a castle's moat and a waiting boat,
and a figure with a hooded habit.
He took no breath and looked like death
this man so old and decrepit.

A woman in white stepped into sight
carrying her head under her arm.
On the boat she sat beside a brown rat
which disturbed the water's calm.

The boat drifted from sight into the night
like a thought from a weary mind.
The thinning grey mist was instantly mist,
leaving my paper, pen, and ink behind.

poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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