Today I’ve promised myself I’m going to work on my novel. Don’t get me wrong; I’ve been writing everyday, but I just haven’t gotten around to Stephania in a few days. (You remember my problematic character. Right?)
I’ve taken a detour into revising and honing several short stories for entry into contests. It’s been a fun journey to unearth a few unpublished works and polish them to a healthy shine. But now, I get a letter from my grant writer who wants me to take a whack at poetry. I’m admitting right now, I’ve never thought about myself as a poet. In fact, my self-assessment boils down to the fact that I think I’m too dumb to understand poetry, so how in the world am I ever going to write the stuff? But to make Miranda happy, I will attempt to rhyme and reason and hopefully come up with something worthy of submission.
And then it happened! Inspiration struck! I woke this morning at 5:30 a.m. with a poem in my head, and like many of my characters, the poem nagged me to write it down! This is what I came up with:
My boy Ernie was a loyal pug,
Every morning he gave me hugs.
Until one day,
He was stolen away,
Now I’m crying for that wee lug.
What do you think? Is this a prize winner?