Ode From A Modern Writer

O mighty blank screen, whose brilliance shines upon me

Like some great god’s halo, beckoning me,

Poor mortal that I am, to fill thy great expanse

With tales of heroes, monsters, and mystical romance.

With dreams of wonders, adventures and lost paradises

You do your best to temp me, adding honeyed promises

Of an enthusiastic fan base and a prompt rise to greatness

Feeding my ever-growing desire of literary success.

Many a time I fall and stumble, before I even reach the chair before you

Succumbing to the terrible vice of laziness, or that of feeling blue.

But always you call me back to action, via threats or cajoleries

Until my fingers are typing away about knights, sorcerers and fairies.

The months course by, the seasons pass and finally my novel is finished.

‘At last!  My time of torment is over,’ I cry with pride undiminished.

Until my reviews come in, filled with criticism and acrimony—

Alas, my victory was short-lived, I realized with agony.

But, like a beacon of light in a tempestuous sea

You beckon me back, and without a protest I flee

To your expansive blankness, to start the ordeal over.

Because to a writer, there’s no better parent, friend or lover…

…Than you.

~Alessa Ellefson