I sometimes think on those two words.
Am I an interloper attempting to make
My way into the ‘Clan’? No I’m not,
But let me say to me, don’t let me wake.
The title, I’d fancy, if it were really true.
I have read the ‘bios’ of the nameless
And shrink from calling me a writer
Until perhaps I might be famous.
I’ve always left writing bios to others
Of scholastic rights, those not mine
I blame them not, they earned it. As
For me I’d be content to write in rhyme.
My bios simple, grades one thru eight;
I do not believe the reader really cares.
I thank my God tho, most of my writes
Use good spelling, poor brings glares.
Now as I say, poetic license allows a bit
Of margin here and there but don’t overdo.
It can help to add a bit of zest, if your write
Goes flat and puts you in a stew.
Those opinions are mine tho I’ll share
If they’ll help another that writes.
So now brother writer, let me join you
In your efforts to keep our world bright
I’ll write, yes, the best that I can.
Copyright © 2012 Charles E. Frost
September 24, 2012