Feathery Words

It floats in the sun
While writing words
It drifts in the sky
As I watch it go by
I think of my great-great-great-grandfather
He made it for our family
He made a pot rather than a drill
He finished the pot
So he could write a poem
About his life before he got a strife
He lived in a happy world
With a little boy and a little girl
For her birthday she received a diamond pearl
Which was melted into a pot
With a speck of love
And a pretty dot.