Beth Camp Historical Fiction

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

S is for Someday . . .

I'm meeting my daily commitment to editing. But I can tell when I'm falling behind, for I don't water my African violets, and they're really pretty. Someone once told me that flowers emerge when the plant feels threatened. Maybe that's why they are purple gorgeous. So, do I water the poor little things or write a poem?

I won't care to write,
but it's not tonight;
the African violets
will have to wait.
Meanwhile, I will ignore
that high-pitched hum, tinnitis, 
for the humming of this story:
my characters battle enemies 
within and without,
ward off omens, 
ignore the raven's last cry,
sail to new lands, 
and awaken renewed. 

My African violets (Camp 2012)