The Quill of the Writer

I feel the words once again,
flowing through me.There is a part of me that can only
express itself in the words that I write.
I speak and the words do not sound right,
I sing them and the music is lost.
My hands touch "The Quill of the Writer"
and out from the soul comes memories
of youth, love, adventure, friendships
and family. A lifetime of ideas and dreams,
thought of as forgotten yet still alive.
I treasure these memories
for they are still alive, I can still
hear the voices, still see the faces.
Each sunset reminds me of another.