The fish swam at ease
Letting the ripples pass
The grass swayed
In pace with the wind
Pebbles and rocks, big and small
Lounged lazily along the shore
The mountains stretched
Unmoving, in green hues
Above all, the clouds
Were pristine white
None knew boundaries
Except man

I saw this image on Sunday Mid-Day, and the connection was instant. Counting on the pen to work its magic. And the family confidently in tow. What follows just wrote itself. 

Hello friend
So happy to see
Another who lives by the pen
 
The same family of three too
Don’t remember the little one
Resting his sleepy head on mine
But can’t forget
Falling on the road
While carrying the older
 
Yes, she too had followed in hope
That the pen would feed us all
 
Look at all those people
They all see
What we have, what we can do
But who cares
Rarely does one stop and buy
What we peddle
 
When we sell one
We are pumped to sell the next
We know
What one pen can do for us
Do they?
 
You will make it one day
It is written in our destiny
The pen shall provide