Friday, November 1, 2013

The Typewriter

 Your time has passed my loyal friend
You always put my mind to ease
When sleep would flirt yet not descend
My dreams found freedom in your keys

The outlet for my rambling mind
A voice when I could not speak
Muddled words were soon refined
On your keys now deemed antique

Of your passing, there’s no rejoice
I yearn for sounds of tapping keys
Which meant a writer found her voice
Capturing words from elusive breeze 

1 comment:

  1. I miss the old typewriters! My favorite, IBM Selectric! Love your poem and pic!