O’ Pencil, you just love to leap

And zoom and skip and dance

Atop the bleached expanse of nothing

Other than the cold

This land is far from fantastic

One may call it an eyesore

Yet your soul commands to get to work 

To bless its utter blankness

O’ Pencil as you set your tip

To the ground you usher whispers

A fruitful blessing to this Earth

Which no sane creature can refuse

The land below you flows like water

And soon becomes a sea

With ripples and trickles that reach my heart

And satisfy us both

O’ Pencil don’t your wrinkling waters

Have more than enough to share?

Let the ocean lull the soul

Of a fisherman ashore

Now your tip is getting worn and dull

Your eraser is much shorter

The true light outside is falling

I think now it’s finally curfew

O’ Pencil your help was much appreciated

By my peers as well as me

Thank you for all your work and aid

In drawing my late-night sketch