A Writer’s Allegiance

A Writer’s Allegiance
by
Deborah O’Carroll

Oh, hear now, my pencil, I’ll sing you a song
You may not be short and you may not be long
Unlovely and stubby
All scratched up and grubby
Unsure if you’re square, round, fat, thin, right or wrong

Yet you are my pencil, and you I will use
Whenever a story does come from my muse
So true on the page
In good humor or rage
Yes you are the pencil I always will use

Yes pencil—oh wait now, I see something there
I see what it is and I can’t help but stare
A pen, smooth and black
I will be right back
As soon as I’ve looked at the pen, oh so fair

O pen, you could be very useful to me
And while you are with me the world you’ll see
As I write about mountains
And sweet silver fountains
To write with you always contented I’ll be

O beautiful pen, did I not speak quite true?
And happy together, me, paper and you
We get on so well
That nobody could tell
That our good companionship is very new

Pen, we’ll stick together—hold on, what is that?
A computer, you say, and that is a rat?
No, no, it’s a mouse
And it’s here in my house
A keyboard as well—and with that down I sat

Computer, how strange that we never did meet
I laughed as I typed and typed, such a great feat
You are my best friend
And you’ll be to the end
As all of my records together we’ll beat

Against a computer no thing can compare
A writing companion that truly is rare
So lovely are you
It is certainly true
Though you take up much room I never will care

Yes—oh, sorry, a moment, just give me a sec
From behind my ear, something fell on my neck
Why, you I do know
Could it really be so?
My pencil returned now, it’s vengeance to wreak

Apologies, pencil, to you I return
To stay with you always I promise I’ll learn
In fact I’ll show you
How much I do know you
For to me you are as the dirt to the fern

Oh, hear now, my pencil, I’ll sing you a song . . .

(repeat)