Can you see us bent over kitchen tables
And our pencil's warm erasers
As we pour our hearts into liquid words upon the lowly page?
Can you see us stopped in parking lots;
Searching for scraps among the floorboards,
Then, with pen to note, we scratch a word to show a life, a love, and age?

We who fight with nature
Never searching, always believing,
We strive against cold, heat and drought to keep the wolves from the door...
But the battle seems wan in comparison
To the war with words we wage,
As we seek to convey a thought, a poem to live and last forevermore.

Why, we were fine and fancy...
No cares beyond the gate
Our only worries keeping calves alive and shipping them eight months later.
Until we tasted immortality
On this life's stage or 'round a campfire
And you, who come to read our words, became the instigator

So we take it all in and write it down
In between the endless chores
Amazed and honored that there are people who read and listen and seem to care
We try to make you laugh and cry
In portraying all we really savvy
And somehow make it all of value and something worthy to share.

Most give little thoughts to such an act
This trying to capture in ink a sunset
When an artist or a photographer can hardly succeed at such a task
Without film or paint or music
Armed with only our imaginations
We connect the dots and record our lives
Our future and our past.

Thus we dance with you as partners
In this waltz of verse and lingo
As long as you continue to listen, we'll try to get it right
With words that bind us close together
Transcending time and borders,
For we are the poets
And you are the reason we write.