I am working on the next piece of the previous post. In the mean time:

Oh, printed sheet of white that’s wound upon the spindle fair,
It’s comforting, now I am seated, to see you hanging there.
Your fatter siblings, safely stored inside the cabinet
Out of reach, if they were needed, from the spot I sit.
Experience has taught some times to look immediately
But urgency occasionally makes that memory flee.
So now relax with comfort knowing you are softly there.
The sentry holding guard the post from which we simply tear.

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