A Writer's Tale

A friend from the Big Apple once again asked me

You’re a big fish in a small pond, but are you happy?

No reason on earth, I quipped, why I shouldn’t be

I choose the theme and write stories that I fancy

I get to proof my words on the galley for quality

Colleagues, readers and I meet for coffee occasionally.

My dear, dear friend from Queens was ever bold

Echoing to me his age-old witchery of gleam and gold

A small-pond big fish earns paltry pennies, is that a hoard?

A big-pond small fish gets pretty pennies, imagine per word

My dear, dear friend’s persuasion started to take hold

Until the charm of earning per word got me sold.

Unable to swim, I dived into the big pond

Unable to skate, I skated through the brand

Unable to dance, I waltzed into success land

Pretty pennies per word pounded my wallet hard

Pretty pennies per word went through my hand like sand

As living and existing in a big pond cost a mountain of grand.

When my dear, dear friend caught up with me, finally

Full of hurt, he bitched at me well and truly, interminably

You haven’t returned my calls, he griped, can’t even meet for coffee

How can I, says me, when I have commitments morning to evening daily

Meetings, revising, launching, signing, promoting to get me more money

And now I have to leave you, my big-time friend, for my stress therapy.

And leave I did my friend and niche in the Big Apple

But first not without a whale of a plate of waffle

Pretty pennies per word percolating in my shuffle

As my stress-tormented psyche is forever on a warble

Not exiting the big pond to be a big fish would be a gamble

I’d rather be a fry in the ocean with sound mind to amble.

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Thank you for reading this tongue-in-cheek poem. I appreciate it.

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