Ink In The Veins

I view computers with a luddite scorn.
This generation doesn't know it's born.
The thrill of writing words down never fails me.
It is a cure all for whatever ails me.
A few sheets of blank paper and a pen
to start the day with and i'm fit again
to face the hazards of the world. Don't think
to transfuse me with blood, just give me ink
in an emergency; it pulls me through.
Black's best but at a pinch then blue will do.
My fountain pen connects to hand and brain,
fits in my bag, can't be used on a train.
It snugly feels just like a part of me
and ink flows from the very heart of me.

Dorothy Pope