What do I owe you for the freedom you bring? A tool of labor for some, but an instrument of art to me.
My fingers fly with enthusiasm when the words in my head drip from fingertips, expressing myself.
Knuckles stiff, out of practice, my fingers stumble and quiver.
Warmed up, stretched, and confident, fingers dance back and forth, up and down, left to right, caressing your keys with the freedom only flowing thoughts can bring
Listen to the music of gentle tapping you bring. The thrum of increased tempo and rhythm as ideas rush to be imprinted on paper.
Clicking to the melodic taps my ears long to hear without pause – a song I hope never ends.
An expression of my overcrowded brain only you can bring.
A performance of freedom only given between my fingers and you.
Love, LOVE your creative poetry, a love letter to your “keyboard!”
Thank you! I wrote this when I started writing more regularly again, after a prolonged break. I’d forgotten how much I missed the simple act of pressing the keys.
Thank you! I just love my keyboard 🥰 One day I’d like an old fashioned typewriter, I think.
I, too, love the old typewriters, maybe it’s because I learned how to type on one, so many, many moons ago. 🙂
I’m fascinated by their sound, and because I only touched one once, as a young child…
Oh, the joy of writing! This is great. So glad you found my blog so I would find yours. Be sure to check my post next week; you’ll find it interesting given this post you’ve just written. Have a great day. 🙂
Thank you for reading and commenting! I will be on the lookout for your next post, as well.