When I Write

By Rebekah Perkins

When the spirit moves me I love to write,

My hopes, my dreams, they're all in sight,

But when it's gone, and this world is no more bright,

My words mean nothing, though someday they might,

And then, it will be then, I will see the light.

When I write my soul feels free,

Like I'm in prison and I'm handed the key,

It's when I write I can really be me,

I can see more clearly, the wind in the trees,

And the amazing things in the blue green sea.

When My fingers first feel the pen,

I have to close my eyes and count to ten,

I feel free, like a true american!

Nothing can get to me then, 

Not an army of ten thousand men.

I feel I can say nothing more,

So even if my words are rather poor,

They really make my spirit soar,

They thrill me to the very core.

Now you have seen into my heart through a little door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I wrote this about 4 years ago, I just found it in some of my stuff I was going through :).