Whenever My Pen Moves

another Fair memory

A burbled splatter of walnut shell ink
sputtering from a turkey quill tip
splatted onto the fake parchment
as Emily tried to sign her name.
"Daddy, can you help me?"

Sputtering from a turkey quill tip,
I watched the blue black globs and blobs,
marveling how much easier it is
to create and destroy with words today.

Splattered onto the fake parchment,
I throw words harum scarum
and hurly burly trying to create masterpieces,
whenever my pen moves.

As Emily tried to sign her name,
I thought of how many times,
unable to write anything meaningful,
I penned for imagined adoring audiences.

"Daddy, can you help me?"
"Sure baby. Gently but firmly,
less swoop in the 'E' and...and..."
spoop..plop...splatters of ink
squirted across my white T-shirt.