Second Draft At Last

  It took a while; it was a trial and I will admit there was fear

  That I would never finish, that my vision would fail but now it’s here.

  A novel how novel even if years late where writer’s block grew and grew.

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  Let Sisyphus’ burden quake as I carry it, for the block did move.

  My muse crippled by my plans gone astray yet alive all the same

  A few words at a time, a long contemplated line – the truth is I was to blame.

  Dille and dallied; delayed. For greater things I thought lay ahead

  And yet time got way, I was outplayed and misled

  By myself, in hubris and greed, but now I see

  Those many mistakes were the making of me.

  It took a while; it was a trial and yet I did persevere

  For no novellete no novella did come together

  And at last my novel is here.