Writer's Dilemma

I wrote this about three years ago before I retired from teaching. Not much has changed, except now the children are my great grands.

Writer’s New Year's Dilemma
by Linda O’Connell

Retirement’s on the horizon, and I need to pitch my book.
But that means I have to promote it and come up with a unique hook.
Some days I want to be a writer and do nothing but compose.
Then, I sit down at the keyboard and what do you suppose?

My thoughts fly out the window, my muse runs out the door.
I sit and mope and flip through blogs to even out the score.
I tell folks that I’m a writer; it does sound really cool, but
the most I’ve written this week is reports, and that’s for school.

I recently published a book, but it’s really not MY story.
I surprised myself the other day and wrote a tome that’s rather gory.
Fiction is not my forte, and killing grandma’s not too slick.
I asked a friend to look it over and she responded, “Woman, you are sick!”

I heard Ted Kooser, Poet Laureate. His words inspired me to write.
I planted butt in a chair, and I sat there half the night.
I had a great idea, and then it left my head,
I told myself, "You want to be a writer, but you’re a wanna be instead."

I went to bed and pondered; I thought about my day.
I ought to stick to teaching, at least it’s steady pay.
No point of view at school or metered rhyming verse.
Just demanding little kids, which some days is even worse.

At Halloween I read of goblins, skeletons, and witches.
One kid shocked me silent and gave me involuntary twitches.
I said, “You and I have a skeleton, and we are not alone; animals... ”
Little Johnny interrupted, “Teacher, my penis has a bone.”

I’m a writer who is wordless, a teacher who was speechless
I just want to cruise the globe and lie on sunny beaches.