Ode To My Pen Poem by Cindy Thacher

It is my friend,
I don't need to delet or send
and can use it over and over again,
unlike a pencil, no need to sharpen.
It's black, blue, red, even green when
it delightfully writes of our beloved Aspen.
It tells tall tales of proud men
and proud gossip of chatty women.
Every once in a while, along comes Mother Hen
who, in her gluttonous way, loves to dampen
the writings of who I've seen, where I've been
only because good things did happen.
It could become an outright heathen
or write for a stand-up comedienne.
Perhaps some like it when
data is written about the Euro or Japan's Yen.
But then again
it has written of Japan and China's Zen
some like it better and write 'Amen'.
Every now and then
as my thoughts have darkened
this is when
I can depend
on my Mighty Pen.