Once upon a time there was a painter, a writer, and a musician. They lived upon separate mountain tops, perfecting their craft. Each the others’ inspiration, for you could hear the music flow through the mountain winds, and sheets of story floated on updrafts or sketches of impossible creatures, perfect in artistic measure.

They were happy.

Until, one day the writer, writing a letter perfect for a loved one, thought his words were true. But, it lacked something. And it troubled him. He wrote for seven nights. A million words. At the end he was no wiser. So, he sent a message asking for help.

The two arrived in worry. “What is missing?!” exclaimed the writer.

The musician examined the typewriter.

“Little mallets. Have you been typing in rhythm?”

“Or in style?” Asked the Artist.

“Yes, Yes that’s it!”

“Let me see.”

“And me.”

All started writing. And the three combined their talents into writing, conveying the ideas of writer, artist, and musician.

Thus the first poets were born.