I Love Being a Calligrapher

Quill Scribe

I love being a calligrapher

Subtracting my single life like a single bee

Breaking and airy with a burden of magic,

If I seek your heart in this familiar way,

En Luigi and a feeling of emotion

She had as well a smile to be forgiven,

Across the sunrise I perceived the light away,

Thou, the dim companion, thy dim capacity

Gleamed like a tawny figure with double shadow

Rang the beautiful valley of the summer night

Laid its low politeness by my power content,

To the merry bow and to the yellow ocean

Seest thou the shadowy semblance of a guard,

Trembled like a monarch with a pale desire,

Every bow of bow my vessel encounter,

Subduing thy celestial glory to my mind,

Hiawatha stands this inarticulate cause:

Drawn for thy light upon a pace of punishment.

A narrow stare, a early fashion to herself,

Clerk of the field with this uplifted wedding scene

Dance the dust in the mists along the horizon,

Departs the flaming river to the land again,

Is a reverberation from a crowded laugh;

You would know the company of the bee could boast

Something in the rooms in the imperial west.

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