With reverence and apologies to Edgar Allen Poe, again.
Once upon a midnight cheery with my eyes bloodshot and bleary,
I wrote a simple blog that I had not thought about before.
While I sat, began my writing, hit to post my nails I’m biting,
My mom and dad could be reading, they just might expect some more.
Just a journal I am writing, like in pen I wrote before.
Only this, and nothing more.
Now the mem’ries we are making, more sweet pictures I am taking.
Those memories not lost to time as they were a month before.
Of sweet moments I keep thinking, my eyes open never blinking,
To new blog friends I am linking; linking to friends I adore.
I find a new one every day, sneaking time as my kids play.
I read ‘too much’ and seek more.
Inside my blog I seek my voice, I thought it just a naming choice,
Surprised my eyes are full and moist, it is me who I search for.
Through my writing I am finding sometimes the truth is quite blinding.
My children teach, never minding I record their family lore.
I shut down my blog and play with them upon the kitchen floor.
A mom of kids - nothing more.
Outside now the snow is glistening through my blog others are listening.
List’ning to words I have to say - humble stories of my day.
I commented on Obama, just another op-ed mama,
Not searching for any drama, yet voters I did implore.
Please think hard, make clear decisions, a world leader you vote for.
My turn to speak - nothing more.
Fingers tight with new frustration, children breaking concentration.
A quick post of my vacation. I shut tight my blogging door.
“If you stay true I write myself. I am abandoned on the shelf.
Just read your friends.” The blog, it pleads to me through the office door.
I return to my computer, ‘just to read’ and nothing more.
It is not a daily chore.
My post is funny, sends a laugh, my friends enjoy a recent gaffe.
I find that it’s not nearly half the chaos of my life’s lore.
The smallest laughs I am sending, they amplify never ending.
The support my friends are lending – inspiring me to write more.
If I forget my intentions, analytics keeps a score.
Without friends, it’s just a chore.
Now I’m writing ever faster, once again become the master.
Thinking, writing, still learning more about this blog I adore.
Inner struggle has stopped fighting, now I find my humble writing.
Those words I cast upon the floor, stumbled now and read by more.
My tiny fame surely over, a dot com asks me for more.
Light sneaks through an open door.
It looks like time to advertise, my friends convince it is so wise,
Success will follow she who tries - make a dollar maybe four.
I’ll try it once, what is the harm? My blogging friends quick to disarm,
“It will not detract from your charm. You have built a solid core.”
Searching, seeking, and learning more, I am always looking for,
What the future has in store.
I love writing, keep on trying, in between my children’s crying,
Not just writing, I am flying, flying high - feet still on my floor.
Unsure where these wings will take me, but I will knock on every door.
Every day I’m learning, failing; start again, dreams I’m trailing.
Looking forward and seeking more, you will one day learn for sure:
Not ‘just a blog’ - so much more.
I wrote this as part of a contest. Check it out at Mabel's Labels site.
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5 days ago