As a note, the answer to the riddle posed in my previous post is “mockingbird.”

The window looks up to an open sky
That shades from blue to blue, and within, I
Must sit and stare at lines again and sigh
At all the work there is to do. My pen
Is poised above the ledger once again
And waits to journal. Ink drips from its end
To mar the page, command another sheet
Be taken out and marked so I can meet
Demands that clients have. From my fair seat,
I daily run the numbers, carry through
The math so that reports will report true–
So much is what I’m often paid to do.
I’ll not bemoan the work; it could be worse.
At least I have some time to write a verse.

We’re coming up on gift season, and bespoke poetry makes a fine gift!

Or you can send your support along directly!