She kept questioning before her pen touched paper,
he kept excusing so she left with an answer.
Few letters of this spring and a notebook of yesterday,
she flipped till she found, her two lined essay!
While hiding them away with shear pain,
she caressed every word of that scattered lane.
It aint the last hinted the cover,
write to begin again, write till the end is over!
Fresh pages smelled good and awaited a new story,
she smiled back to thank him for the gift of his glory.
The pages are words-worthy when she thought,
placed each letter carefully then, consuming his drought!