Writing Season (a poem)


Do not pity your days when words

   will not come.

     Days meant for reading.

     Days meant for fun.

But never ignore the tapping at your door,

   when light has gone and day is done.

Rise to meet a story’s call, greet voices,

   seeking you to tell words they speak.

     Write upon the winged night,

     ’til dawn brings its glorious light.

No rule exists, no rhyme, nor reason,   

   when a tale brings a writer’s hand to the table.

Story cares not about time or season

   and you, as a writer, must never

     question the reason.


Joan Wiley

Published by Joan Wiley❤

An American writer of dark future, Sci-Fi Fantasy, and poetry. I need snacks, love attention, take naps, and get moody. I may possibly be a cat.🐱

2 thoughts on “Writing Season (a poem)

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