Another entertaining and humorous tale told by Tallis Steelyard and penned by Jim Webster.
Very few people realise exactly what being a poet entails. They assume that it’s all sipping wine and eating sugar pasties and dropping the occasional cultured quip into the conversation. Of course they realise that poems don’t write themselves but still, they seem to think that our lives are easy.
They don’t see half of it. Admittedly there are times when I am working where I can just sit back and let the event flow around me. This is a sign that I have everything in hand and that the apparently endless planning has at last paid off. Alas it is rare that this happens. I have to work with the tools I have and these are normally the household staff of my patron.
Ideally they would grasp the spirit of the occasion and come up with something witty and spontaneous. Alas, bitter experience has taught me that spontaneity needs…
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