... waiting for Fame and Fortune. Writer's Cramp 19th birthday contest Jan 28
|Afraid I'll miss the deadline, I'm filled with woe
Writer's Cramp is 19, didn't you know?
Prompts rise from the judge with ultra gusto,
While members search minds from head to big toe
Too often, it seems, all that's found is shadow
Could music help? A bongo or banjo?
Maybe dream a dream, to flourish and grow
A cave, firefly lit; a wondrous grotto
Or sail an ice floe, to ski pristine snow.
Sipping Cointreau in the latest chapeau
Climb up a cloud, and slide down a rainbow
Anywhere at all, to flee and lie low.
Seemed an adventure at the first 'Hallo'
Each day a new prompt and story… just so
'Have fun', they say. Writers answer, 'Oh NO!'
Writer's block have I, a burdened bozo
Can I offer my brain a quid pro quo?
Like a caffeine hit? A winning Lotto?
When it seems all is lost, no place to go,
The angst I suffer, none really know
The pain I hide, nothing must show
Wait! Something stirs, like a rising rhino
Is it a story to blossom and grow?
A rhyme for spirits to rise like bread dough?
NOW my computer is going so slow
Grr… where is the Internet? Do you know?
I posture and pout; Marilyn Monroe?
Don't tell me it's over? Have to forego—
My chance at Fame; blame connection 'slow-mo'
But at the last gasp, at my deepest low…
Fate takes the reins, and it's every stop, GO
Salvation is here, and now I do know
I've 'nailed it' once more, at last I can go
Back to bed, a monster sleep debt I owe
Resting weary brain—the happiest glow.
All done and dusted
…with nineteen minutes to go.