Journalists are after a story,
Novelists work to a plot;
Technologists teach and inform us,
Playwrights and poets, a mixed up lot.
Writers comes in all genres,
Many things move us forth;
subjects cover quite a spectrum,
common love is the use of words.
Some whip us up, some calm us down,
Some write so fancifully;
Some write in simple, cold hard tone,
warning of war, eco disasters, or eternity.
Some take readers through dangerous alleys,
Others walk them by gentle streams;
Some scare with horrible nightmares,
Others give their readers sweet dreams.
We write for the simple pleasure,
We write from the drive within;
some thrive under deadline pressure,
Some wait on the muse and then;
Something wonderful happens,
Like rainbows and fireworks in the mind;
Creativity begins unfolding,
Even the best writers blush with pride.
Our baby, our offspring, our bundle of joy,
We then set forth to be admired;
If you dare call it an ugly baby,
That’s when a writer gets totally riled!
-Donald R. Sansbury, 2013