Dreams

A sketchpad, a pencil
Wherever he goes.
Where inspiration may come,
Nobody knows.
A sunset, a child
He draws what he sees.
When people ask, he says,
"I draw what I please."
A notebook, a pen
She writes about life.
About love or about death
Make you laugh or perhaps cry.
Through her arm the thoughts flow.
Like a river it seems.
The words form on the paper,
She writes down her dreams.
These two people are alike,
They do what they love.
One writes, one draws,
Their gifts sent from above.
Friends or not,
Together or apart.
They follow their dreams,
They follow their heart.