On a Shelf

1237 E. Livingston Street, Suite B

Orlando, FL 32803-5401

Ph: 407-895-0540 ~ Fax: (407) 228-9771

Licenses: SS00305 ~ MH02676 ~ PCE-9

Welcome!

On a shelf, by the window, there are neat little pots.

There are ferns, peace lilies, and flowers with spots.

Imagine the colors: purple, bright white and pink!

They brighten my room. My room just to think!

There’s a desk from Goodwill, just a bit scarred,

With scratches from writers who’ve worked really hard.

Pads of paper and pencils are lined in a row.

I’m waiting, just waiting, for my muse to show.

Outside, gray oak tree has always stood guard.

Moss drips from branches. Squirrels run in the yard.

Leftover popcorn has been placed with care

Into their feeder, so that they can share.

By the tree is a fountain. Water laps down.

A woodpecker drinks, with his flaming red crown.

I smile alone. I adore my room’s view.

Here’s where I’ll write some fun stuff that is new!

The atmosphere’s perfect, clean and neat.

I’ll relax at my desk and put up my feet.

This place is ready. Everything’s right!

In this room I’ve set up, I can write, write, write!

On a Shelf,

by the Window

I think back to a time no room was required…

I was set. I was clear. I was more than inspired!

In those years, I was pushed by a voice and a vision,

So I wrote a book and then a revision.

No room to write back then. The house was a wreck.

Well, I’d adapt. I’d make do. I said, “What the heck!”

I wrote at the park, after work, in my car.

I’d write here and there. I’d write near and far.

The dining room table transformed to a desk,

Though piles of paper grew somewhat grotesque.

I labored with files like a government clerk.

But nothing would stop me from finishing my work.

Televisions droned. Distractions abounded.

Dogs barked, phones rang. “Hey! I’m working, confound it!”

My daughter yelled out, “I’m late for class!”

When you’re busy, how quickly the time seems to pass.

Still, no problem with my resources then,

I’d saved up for years to spend time with my pen.

What’s more, a benevolent grant guaranteed

This book for parents would be published indeed.

Yes, published it was! And enjoyed by others!

The hospital gave the book out to new mothers.

I did it once, and I can do it again

In my room with a view, an old desk, and a pen.

But sometimes it seems like my project is lost!

I’ve hit a bad snag and I’ve paid the cost.

Let me take just a minute here to recall

The year of ‘04…when my dream hit a wall.

That time was so bleak, so sad, and so black,

I start to unravel when I start to look back.

I worked late. I sacrificed. So hard, I tried.

But somehow, somehow, bad monsters got inside.

Hurricane damage…three times in one year!

It made my head hurt and my heart fill with fear.

My roof was leaking. My computer crashed.

Still the monsters kept coming, not even abashed.

Who could find help? Hire any contractor.

Oops, he’s unlicensed, with no safety factor.

On top of all else that was a mess,

Identity theft brought more and more stress.

My assistant quit. The next one’s alcoholic.

My funds were embezzled. Oh, how symbolic!

Around me in pieces, my dream lay shattered.

Things I loved were lost. It seemed nothing mattered.

Slowly, but surely, I’ve built a new life

I’m hurt, but I’m strong. I’m done with that strife.

I know what will work! I’ll focus my mind.

I’ll make a new project even better this time.

Jaded but wiser, I have good intentions.

I’ll write just for kids and give interventions.

But still, this Anxiety Monster – it haunts me!

“Might as well just give it up now,” it taunts me.

This Monster, it whispers, ”You haven’t a prayer.

Dollars are tight. Funding sources are rare.

You’ve no support now. It’s not even funny.

Your project’s dried up. You haven’t the money.”

I won’t listen! I know the world needs this gift.

In all of the gloom, I’m sure something will shift.

I will wait for a gift to first come to me:

The power to contemplate and just simply be.

And there at the fountain, a cardinal, all red,

Splashing in sunshine, and lifting my dread.

It’s a symbol of hope. I’ll never succumb.

No, instead, I’ll rejoice in mysteries to come.

Sometime in the future, when the stars are aligned

I trust all will work out. I’m sure I will find

That I’m blessed with the one thing I truly need:

Funding! So the project will finally succeed.

(Click here to order)

Adapted from submission packet to A Room of Her Own for writing grant, October 2008.

(Grant not awarded to me.)

If you would like to be part of making the Project a reality for children, click here to donate. If you are not able to give financially at this time, prayers and good wishes are gratefully appreciated.