By: ABEA’S
The Pen, a gentle lover, whispers secrets to the night,
As the Book, a tender maiden, listens with delight.
Her pages, a canvas of dreams, await the Pen’s caress,
As he paints vivid pictures, and brings her stories to confess.
With every stroke, the Pen’s passion ignites,
As the Book’s heart beats faster, with each tender, loving sight.
Their love is a waltz of words, a symphony of thought,
As they dance together, their love forever caught.
Memories, like autumn leaves, rustle and fall,
But the Pen and the Book, a perfect pair, stand tall.
They capture the whispers of the past,
And bring them to life, forever to last.
We acquire knowledge, yet forgetfulness steals away,
But the Pen and the Book, a loyal pair, stay.
They safeguard our stories, our hopes, and our fears,
And keep them safe, through all the passing years.
Within the Book’s pages, our experiences unfold,
Like a rose in bloom, our stories take hold.
The Pen’s gentle touch, brings our thoughts to life,
As the Book’s loving heart, beats with joy and strife.
