The Calligrapher

Sat down upon a comfy chair, The writing tools at hand, The coming journey oh so fair, That few could understand... For patience proves the precious key, Meticulous design, Beyond the pure calligraphy, Each letter on each line... Sometimes upon a scroll or frame, Presented to a friend, Or just the writing of a name, For some award to send... Or matching illustrations done, So delicate, so sweet, With discipline despite the fun Till everything's complete... With swirling letters, capitals, Some foreign symbols, too, Creating wondrous miracles For everyone to view... The sense of pride, the thankful heart, Perhaps to shed a tear, The time well spent perfecting art, The grin from ear-to-ear... Then teaching others what works well, Observing what they learn, As they fall neath the writing spell And to it they return... To match the teacher's skills at last, Their children to impress, Such that they'll never be downcast, Now they've found happiness...