A Silly Poem.
There’s a place that I know,
Where the coffee does flow,
And most writers will frequent to write.
It’s opened to all,
Spring and summer and fall,
All day and most of the night.
I was there on that day,
Though most folks will say,
It took place just a little bit different.
With my own eyes I saw,
Marshall Diane’s quick draw,
Made an hombre choose to relent.
Now this cyber delight,
Known as Old West that night,
Had a host of its regular patrons.
There were players of card,
With lattes from the bar,
Sitting each at their favorite stations.
At the bars several stood,
On their laptops they would,
Pound out stories and poems and opinions.
An outsider walked in,
And above all the din,
Pronounced himself king of all minions.
We all gasped at his claim,
Telling all that the fame,
Of best writer belonged just to him.
Then we looked at the one,
She’d been never undone,
But it seemed like her chances were grim.
Marshal Diane she stood,
And they glared at each other good,
Like a scene from the bad and the ugly.
Then she cried out slap plastic,
And they both wrote fantastic,
He wrote pain she wrote how do I love thee.
All their stats we could see,
On the jumbo TV,
It was neck and neck at the first.
The hombre was winning,
And he would not stop grinning,
But he did when his bubble burst.
With her laptop in hand,
Wrote a piece of such wonderful brilliance.
That it took all our breath,
As we read life and death,
And how a person could live with resilience.
We all stood up and cheered,
Then the challenger sneered,
And he ran from our midst in a hurry.
Marshall Diane had won,
Her legend begun,
There were none of us there filled with worry.
I was there on the night,
Marshall D’ set things right,
She’s tenacious and tough as they come.
Old West Cyber Cafe,
Without doubt I will say,
Is a great place to write,
And then some.
Let’s keep in touch: firstname.lastname@example.org