Author's End
Wait until the sun sets
over the distant hill,
Water then the flowers
on the far window sill.
Turning down the curtain
that will keep out the night,
One can sit in silence
with the words yet to write.
One more cup of coffee,
another page has come;
Bad guys are now standing
at the end of a gun.
Only two more chapters
are currently in plan,
Then off to the printers,
the next writing at hand.
One day he will retire
to a mountain retreat;
No more the endless days,
no more nights without sleep.
Might just take up fishing
down at the river's bend,
Enjoying the quiet
so far from the pretend.
He knows they'll come looking,
seems they always want more;
Yet no one understands
when pleasure turns to chore.
Through the riches hard earned
he's lost more than he's won;
Weariness has taken toll
and this author's now done.
Copyright © Daniel Larson | Year Posted 2024
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