The Feather My feather flows with deep pride, Expressing my minds fulfillment. He feels my caressing fingers, Scented with hopes longing roses. Through his ink and gentle strokes, My open heart will appeal further. Through his exquisite color, the beauty of my love’s fire glows. Felt, and respectable it was; yet a messenger. Plated in gold, yet humbled in duty, What a noble presence he brings. Born by majestic eagles, Masters by their own right. I speak not too much of my loyal feather, I fear only suns can praise him less. My words will never forget his aura. Its one that defined my character so.
Edmond Arrey