My book, a poem

My Book

 

Cigarette after cigarette

Snack after snack,

Writing my first book

I think I’ve got the knack.

Typing by candlelight

At my computer, I stay.

Night after night

And day after day.

Some days are good

some nights are bad,

Eating the junk food,

My hips became sad.

My neck is stiff

My fingers are soar,

I created a rift

And became a bore.

My husband and kids

My attention they crave.

They’re taking bids

My book’s all the rave.

Of me, my kids are proud

The money, they’ll like,

For one’s college bound

The other wants a new bike.

My husband just smiles

And shakes his head,

Wondering if I’ll ever

Come back to bed.

~ Sandra Ferrara Gentry

2006

Reviews

[R J Askew]

Love it. 'I created a rift' is the line for me. I recognise it. Writing is a secret lover we can't get enough of. On the face of it an innocent affair, but in truth... But, writing the lover also promises so much, and is, utterly without inhibition in the wiles it will use to ensure we make words again and again...and...