Ode To My Pencil

The way it flies across my page, making swirling patterns of black and white, drawing an endless line that stretches across the ocean and over the horizon.
The smoothness of its lines makes images spring to life, the key to the lock that has been long lost, the key to your heart and imagination.
A pencil is my portal, the portal that takes me to different realms and galaxies, the magic that takes me on amazing adventures making me wonder what else is out there.
Without my pencil, my page is blank.
Blank as a snowy schoolyard without the snowmen, which are my creations.
Without it, my brain is so full of ideas that the new ones get lost, so that the saying comes true, it comes in one ear and goes out the other.
This pencil is my treasure, the thing that I would cross entire oceans for, rarer than rubies and greater than gold, it is the diamond on your ring, the sapphire on your necklace.
Its sleek, slim body fits in my hand, its tip glints in the sunlight, waiting to touch the page and start creating a world, a world of wonder and imagination.
For my pencil there are no boundaries, that glass wall never appears, for anything is possible with it.
So pick up a pencil, let’s make a deal, I’ll take you on an adventure and then let’s see how you feel.

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