The Author and a Poet

At times I like to poke my nose
And i over heard my pen give the paper the dose

"I wonder" said the paper called oaky
flapping along with the wind beautifully

"I wonder how does think?"
"Believe me the reader of his story wouldn't blink"

"huh" said the pen called inky
readjusting her nib which had gone a bit kinky

"that foolish fellow is a waste "
"writes pages and pages in a haste"

"i understand " said oaky grinning back
"you seem to like that poet whom i did like to whack"

"just writes four lines on a page"
"uses word like his vocab is trapped in a cage"

"Speaks of thing non existent and abstract
"god alone knows who reads that prat?"

"Check my author for a change "
writes ,interweaves and has a fabulous range"

"His reader get a new outlook towards life, inky"
"knows where to place the full stop better than your kinky'

"Oaky" said inky "that why i hate him you see"
"No fullstops is the poets key"

"He doesn't hold me to much,write frugal"
"but has a lot to say"
"He doesn't give his reader an outlook
they choose theirs ,he doesn't over cook"

oaky angry gave her a flak
she spat back on him and he looked dark black

Interesting is the fight
the author and the poet both need write

who has the guts to tell these guys to take it light
Guys stop the fight
-the fire bird