by Tari Faris
‘Twas the night before an author’s Christmas, and in a small house
A writer’s fingers were stirring as they flew across her keyboard and mouse.
She had readied for bed and tucked the kids in with care,
In hopes that sweet sleep would soon find her there.
But as soon as the children were all snug in their beds,
Visions of her characters soon danced in her head.
The dark moment, the wound, their zinger-filled chit-chat,
All refused to settle down for her long winter’s nap.
When all of the sudden arose such plot,
She sprang from the bed to type what she got.
Across the keys her fingers flew like a flash,
She typed and typed until the fire burned down to ash.
Scene after scene the words poured out,
Until her husband walked in and she gave a small shout.
“Just one more scene – I swear – and then I’ll come to bed.”
“It’s morning.” He said with a wink and a shake of his head.
She dropped next to him on the couch as the kids ran in to see,
The stockings all filled and many gifts beneath the tree.
Her husband whispered in her ear as the kids expressed their delight,
“Happy Christmas, my love, now have a good-night.”
We, at NovelRocket, wish you all a very Merry Christmas!