If on isle of the sea

I have to tarry,

With one book, let it be

A Dictionary.

For though I love life's scene,

It seems absurd,

My greatest joy has been

The printed word.

Though painter with delight

May colours blend,

They are but in his sight

Means to an end.

Yet while I harmonise

Or pattern them,

A precious word I prize

Like to a gem.

A fiddler lures fine tone

From gut and wood;

A sculptor from stark stone

Shapes godlihood.

But let me just caress,

Like silver birds,

For their own loveliness:

Bewitching words.

There are words that soothe

And tranquilize:

Slumbering, rainbows,

Butterflies.

There are words that tighten,

Words that roil:

Tension, turmoil,

Chaos, spoil.

There are words that shimmer,

That beguile:

Stars, ships, peacocks,

Firelight, smile.

And always, words

That make life full:

Love, laughter, home,

Peace, beautiful.