Sounds Like Pictures

Scritch, scratch, of pencil on pages.
The wages of sin hold no power here.
Nothing but lead on paper and words flowing free,
With glee, drunk upon imagination.
Meaning ever changing, pictures painted colorfully in gray and white.
The Might of the Pen is nothing compared to the mercurial nature of pencil, where a single line, word, letter can be erased and the picture forever changed..or until erased again.
When you hear that scrape of coal-like tip upon bleached wood pulp, lined perfectly as though trying to impose order on the literary chaos being spilled upon its surface carelessly,
You see the futility of borders when the scritch, scratch sound is shushing in your ears,
Like a whispered ocean in a seashell.
Thoughts gel, ideas glisten, as neurons, like fireworks, spark across the mind.
I find this many splendoured thing known as writing to be relaxing and exciting at the same time,
Like making love; that slow build that tenses then releases, exhilaration and boneless bliss.
This is what my muse sounds like...
Scritch Scratch...

By ~ Níca