Exhausted and overcome by Christmas and another completed manuscript, I have naught the energy to write much more this month. So I shall give you fine readers this: a poem on finishing manuscripts. Enjoy!
Twas the night before New Years,
And all in the house,
A mother was writing
and trying to rouse
her creations!
Of romance! and fear! and conclusions,
but kiddos indulged with sugar lllusions
won't sleep. And now it is half past the hour,
and mother, up late, is starting to sour,
and so as the hen scratch digs wounds on the page,
she worries her ire is starting to rage,
but despite all her kids and her spouse and chores,
she finishes early, the manuscript soars!
from 'in progress' to 'finished'
my, what a delight,
but now everyone's sleeping
she's up past midnight.
So the New Year is gone,
and the fireworks done,
and now all she has left
is to edit...
No fun.
Hope everyone had a Happy New Year! :)
.jpg)
.jpg)
