NaNoWriMo’s gone by golly,
Time to sit by the fire and think,
My writing gene is on the blink.
Mystery plots keep swirling about
Like snow blown from an elephant’s snout,
Grabbing one can really be tough,
You wind up with a bunch of fluff.
Can’t tell the bad guys from the good,
The dames seem mostly made of wood,
Clues supposed to be well hidden
Lie about like who’re you kiddin’?
What to do ere old Santa comes
And finds me with three sets of thumbs?
Grab the keyboard and whack away
Before the roof gets full of sleigh,
Dancer and Prancer, what a sight,
And Rudolph’s nose a big red light.
I’ll pen a draft so fast it streaks
Like stars above the highest peaks,
A Christmas story oh so grim
You won’t believe it’s just a whim,
It’ll give the readers quite a fright,
But still I wish ‘em all GOOD NIGHT!