Writer's Camp Poem by Mary Champion

At the writer's camp
We pitch our intentions
In writer's jargon.
Lay out the ground-sheets of our plots;
Hammer home the pegs on which they hang.

Sitting around the camp-fire
We share tales of wilfully blind,
And obviously uneducated publishers
Who fail to appreciate our talents.
We hope that the flickering flames
Of inspiration
Will be fanned into roaring life
To prove them all wrong.

Communal meals whet our appetites
For creative pursuits,
As we queue, line by line,
To receive our daily ration of words.
Clutching our literary nutrients,
We set to work
Intent on writing our masterpieces.