A Way – With Words
A “Poker Grinder” thinks, “I can”
He perseveres with what's in hand;
Gives no excuse; brooks no defeat;
Applies his pants to player's seat.The same applies to writer-types
Who content-grind each word out right;
New concepts come with dawn each day,
Then the flow as words in fresh new way.Persistence, plus a way with words,
That observations might be heard
By others, for whom sight has been
Obscured, but now – new worlds are seen.A writer sees, lets others see;
He shows whatever's come to be
An insight in his field of view;
His edge expands – including you.I know a content-grinder type
Who honed his grinding-skills just right;
When I got sick I turned to him
And asked if he'd help me to win –“For no one else that I can see
Could do the task confronting me
Except you – content-grinder-son
Who's way with words might see it done.“Would you pick up where I left off?
Not to write my books, but yours – not scoff
At words which I have written there,
But look at them, if look you dare –“Then take a line, or phrase, or thought,
If there be any piece that's got
Some value in your work, my son,
Then let it help you in your run.“For if I die before my time,
I hope at least some thought of mine
Which has some value still today
Be used, and thus see light of day.“I see no other who could use
These words of mine (they'd rather lose
No time in sorting, reading through,
To listen for some insight new).“I'd be so pleased if some day then
Some little phrase inspired your pen
To flow a line beyond some block,
Enriching thus the life you've got.”“Why yes”, he said, “I'd honoured be
To fill the gap, your books to read.”
With sweet relief, stress then released,
I faced my cancer-road in peace.So glad I am he writes again,
(Life levelled out, me through my pain) –
A Content-Grinder is my son –
For me his “yes” let fight be won.Son, as I view your enterprise,
I'm thrilled to see your talent rise
To take its place, flow out through you,
Whatever else you choose to do.navigation