Comfy sweats, butter soft socks,
and “Write On” t-shirt donned.
Inspirational music – hit play.
Kids are at school, husband at work,
the perfect time to create.
Tea pot filled, “Write brained
people are creative” mug in hand.
Computer on; quick, check email.
Open a new document, blank page
waits for my words.
Quick, a load of laundry in while
I compose, multitasking to be sure.
Okay, tea hot, comfy in my chair,
Oh, the light bulb needs to be changed.
While I’m at it I might as well check the
others. Grocery list,
Light bulbs
Meat
Veggies…
Dinner planning, lunches plotted.
Plotted like my book, all right,
settled in.
Phone rings, must find the file
and email it, help a friend,
pay some bills.
Back to the task at hand,
write something, anything, even
just one word.
“Honey, I’m home. What’s for
dinner?”
Where did the time go?
Maybe I’ll write something
tomorrow.
1 comment:
Your poem is a great description of a real problem all writers must encounter. I'd love to hear from those who don't have this problem. Meanwhile, one solution is a writers' retreat! Perhaps even a private one in my own house, with the door shut against phone, laundry and all other distractions!
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