‘Twas the night before deadline, And all through the town
Every writer was writing, their heads were bent down
O’er the keyboard, the ARC’s, over every notepad
How could they have missed it? Could it be all that bad?
And still on they labored, refusing to sway
Resisting the impulse to just throw away
The words carefully crafted, the plot so inspired
Wondering, really, were three subplots required?
Now, Mary, now Jerry, now Paula and Sal
Here, Connie, and Cathy, and Debbie, and Val
On Steven, and Randy, and Stuart and Bill
Relinquish this book to your Father’s Will
To the top of the slush pile,
To the top of the stack
This book is a winner
There’s no turning back!
So write till it’s written, and toil til it’s done
The story God wants, in praise of His Son
No matter the hour, no matter the cost
Any labor of Love for your Lord is not lost.