I never said I was a poet, only that I'd make an attempt at it. So here's today's stab at poetry. I've been working with my publisher Walnut Springs Press for the last two weeks to perfect my book Soulfire. Any second/minute/hour I should get to see what the cover is going to look like. But waiting for that to happen is like waiting for your baby to be born! So while it's not GREAT poetry, it's what I'm feeling right this minute. And this poem is to distract me from checking my email every 30 seconds.
Waiting For My Book Cover
Here I sit totally excited
Once everything gets righted
Fonts, and revisions and grammar galore
"Hurry, hurry," I implore!
Maybe they could work faster
But then it'd be disaster
So here I'll wait like a wee little one
Anticipating my Christmas to come.
Will the cover have flames
After all Soulfire's the name.
Or will there be a maiden fair
Standing next to Alma, so debonair.
Either way, I'm bound to this computer.
Not I today will I be the commuter
So hurry up Amy send the cover to me
Then I'll be as happy as can be.