My Day as a Writer
My desk seems awfully cluttered, though I know I need to write.
But who can work in such a mess? I first must make it right.
It really should be easy. There isn’t much to do
Although the shelves above it could use a dusting too
The books, they are disheveled. I think I’ll organize
But not by famous author, I line them up by size
My next task will be easy, just clean the tiny keys.
And then the mouse and monitor, will polish up with ease.
It’s looking so much better, I really should be done.
Except that pile of papers, I file every one.
Now I should be ready to summon up my muse.
I sharpen all my pencils and pick a pen to use.
My notebook in the ready, I find my notes within
But now the dog is barking, before I can begin.
The napping babe is waking, there’s someone at the door.
I rise to get the infant, but trip and hit the floor.
The chair no longer upright, slams into my backside.
My favorite pair of pjs, are now ripped up the side.
The baby now is wailing, I struggle to my feet.
My writing time is over. I’ll have to claim defeat.
Until the day is over, I’ll wish I’d left the mess.
For now the real world beckons, my muse will have to rest.
By Christine Bryant