A poem about the contrasting working life of an accountant and a writer.
|The Bean Counter and The Writer
Some say I’m an accountant, slaving over figures,
Others regard me as a writer, wrestling with words.
I spend my days bent over a calculator and papers
Counting the beans, working on the net margin
Balancing books, figuring net return on investment
In the evening, I’m back home at my desk
Scratching my head about what to write.
Poetry springs to mind, format and rhyme,
An unfinished novel beckons, oh what to write,
A twist in a novel’s plot stirs my thoughts
Whilst writing the new plot’s detail,
I recall an error in the accounts that day.
A bank statement entry was wrong,
How could I have missed it, what an idiot,
That’s why the margin seemed out of sync.
Remembering a poem I’d forgotten to write
For an entry in the Daily Poem contest
I wrack my brain, conjuring up creative skills.
Oh shoot, quickly write a likely poem
That matches the contest’s criteria
At midnight, poem done, and the plot settled,
At last I amble off to bed to get some rest.
Soon a new day dawns, back to the grindstone,
Accounting and adjusting the erred entries
To appease the auditors, settling their cause.
Still calculating figures, a new message alerts,
I’ve won the daily poem contest, hooray!
What a joy to succeed, another happy day
For the bean counter - accountant at work
And a worthy wordsmith, I wish......