‘Twas Weeks Before Christmas
By John Svee, Restoration Solutions and Writer
'Twas weeks before Christmas, when all through the house,
My brain wasn’t working, I felt like a louse.
My writing was sluggish and going nowhere,
No way I’d be ready to stand up and share.
I worked and I wrestled alone with my dread,
Visions of dignity fade from my head.
Mental pen had gone dry, must have left off the cap,
May throw in the towel and just take a nap.
When out of my laptop arose such a clatter,
Called tech support to see what was the matter.
Then away to Google I flew like a flash,
Got mad at that engine, returning just trash.
More time on the phone left nothing to show,
More hours on repair I just couldn’t blow.
When, what to my sore bloodshot eyes should appear,
But a whole lot of lint in the fan, way down there!
With the fan now cooling, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment, I was back in the thick.
Again, system working, my curses refrained,
I doubled back down to get working again.
Now with new lines, to fit in, tried to fix ‘em
My meter was working, man I was blit’zen!
I no longer felt that proverbial wall,
Those thoughts in my head; had to input them all.
My brain then checked out, just like that, on the fly,
I was sober, and rested, so that can’t be why.
Up to the house-top my curses they flew,
The heck with this task, and St. Nicholas too.
And then in a twinkling, I felt less aloof,
I hoped that my writing would serve as the proof.
With thought that my troubles were turning around,
Just knew my success was soon to be found.
It was certainly earned, so a small break I took,
Fired up my YouTube to take a quick look.
Hours spent viewing cute pets, back to back,
I started to think I had overdone slack.
A few hours more, and I’d focus again.
A movie, check email, and then I’d begin.
Outside the light changed, night was starting to fall,
Somehow I’d just have to get back on the ball!
Caught up in the spirt, I became quite merry,
This stuff I’m writing, like my car is so cherry.
It was now time, to tie it all up with a bow,
Look forward to the o’s and awe’s you will show.
While stumbling often, with gnashing of teeth,
I’m able to do this, was my firm belief.
If ever I finish, I’ll go fill my belly,
Then reviewing my work; it bordered on silly.
I pulled my thesaurus, down from my shelf,
It helped me write better, in spite of myself.
The lines that were jumping around in my head,
Were causing a growing bad sense of new dread.
I spoke not a word, did not swerve from my work,
No longer concerned that I’d sound like a jerk.
I felt my result had the smell of a rose,
Even with tortured and quite sloppy prose.
Seeing the end, in relief gave a whistle,
No second thoughts sent it off, like a missile.
Now that I’m finished, I’m feeling alright, so…
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!