It’s a bit disconcerting, the pencil fits in snugly But sticks out at an angle to the housing. You check and reassured start twisting gently. Wood thinner than women’s underwear crawls over your fingers And as long as there are no jerks or withdrawals It continues a virgin ribbon. The lead is shaved of powder to pinpoint tall And the smell of Californian cedar is not forgotten. It’s all in the position Of a tiny blade In a confined space. Completing the mission For which it was made A salute to the human race. Saxby Pridmore