The Gift of Writing, WAC

Alas! My dearest, you stole it away,
a gift I had, so precious and prized,
as I poured my heart out into you,
as I smiled every moment I was with thee.

Without it, I suffer each passing day,
I feel no pain, but rather devitalized,
as I see my precious bid me adieu,
capable of nothing, but staring blankly.

I need to find it, so I hope and pray,
it is not something that can be apprised,
thinking thus, my efforts I renew,
to reunite with what belongs to me.

Success I find, in writing a long piece, say,
of a wine estate, so many have despised,
and slowly my precious came into view,
embracing me, making me jump with glee.

Thank God I found you, and didn't go astray,
not only for my blog were you, I surmised,
WAC my dear, is impossible, without you,
Know this my dear - my gift of writing.