One day the pen sat at the desk
inside a house, the town of esk.
All pens, by nature, are inclined
to lie in wait until the mind
wakes from its slumber ready for
routine activity and more.
And when it happens it is quick
the pen, shaped like a fancy stick
must spring to action in a blink
while just above the mind must think.
Thus, like the talons of a hen
the mind must have its trusty pen.

Herbert Nehrlich

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-mighty-pen/