Monday, December 9, 2013

Hope for Christmas from Linda S. Glaz


 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro' the land,
Writers were stirring with hope in their hands;
The keyboards were clacking, the fingers with care,
In hopes that a contract soon would be there;
The similes and metaphors were snug on the lines,
While writers created plots that were fine,
And characters danced across pages like crazy,
Some happy, some silly, and some downright lazy.
When suddenly the author changed directions and then,
The ending turned round and started over again.
Away to the next scene, the characters flew,
A boy and a girl, for a romance needs two.
The killers they lurked from page to page,
Some young, some old, and showing their age.
When, what to the wonderment, a mystery appears,
Filling the reader with tension and fear.
Then appeared an old man, so lively and quick,
Everyone knew in a moment he really had wit.
More rapid than eagles, his ninja skills grew,
Until he had helpers to find who had killed who.
"Now! Sherlock, now! Columbo, now! Poirot, and Kojak,
"On! Clouseau, on! Marple, on! Fletcher and Spade;
"To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now catch the crooks, catch the crooks, catch the crooks all!
As weapons before the wild killers fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So up to the house-top the antagonists run,
With bags full of stolen items each one:
And then in a twinkling, they dashed to the roof
Where detectives were waiting to shackle each hoof.
Then the writer his story was turning around,
The seat of his pants changing gears with a bound:
The guy that he’d dress'd all in fur, to his foot,
He suddenly didn’t know where he would put;
Would he bundle the man with a weight on his back,
Oh, how his fingers continued to clack.
A love story soon become the right thing,
So the characters laughed, and they danced and could sing.
Yes this was the story the writer should tell,
Of a handsome young prince, and his lovely girl, Belle.
The arms of Belle’s love were held tight about her,
And the kiss, well it caused her stomach to flutter.
He had a fine face, and eyes that were dashing
That took her all in till their hearts were both crashing:
Yes, this was the story the author should tell,
And she knew it would be the one that would sell;
A spark in her eye and a shake of his head
Cleared all the writer’s block, she had nothing to dread.
She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work,
And finished the chapters; then turn'd with a jerk,
And opening her email, she attached a query,
Then sent it out without being wary,
She opened it daily, her hopes way on high,
And waited to hear “Yes, yes. We will buy!:
Then she heard them exclaim, as they gave her the call-
Happy writing career, to one and to all!

6 comments:

Tom Threadgill said...

Wow! I'm impressed! A call from a publisher is at the top of my Christmas list!

Jeanette Levellie said...

VERY CLEVER, Linda! I am reading your Christmas novella, to see how it's done...

Diana said...

Clever encouragement for us all!
Such fun Linda. :-)

Terri Tiffany said...

Loved this!,

Linda Glaz said...

I guess you can all tell, I'm not exactly a poet. But thanks all, and to all a good night!

Elaine Stock said...

Linda, kudos on this awesome poem. Kojak was a great touch!