If Only - A Poem a Day in November

Hello, there. I've missed you.

It's been three months, maybe more. I've gotten married--twice. Gotten a promotion and a raise. Been in three different countries. And the writing, well, the writing has gone by the wayside for a bit.

And that's OK. Sometimes the creative outlets go by the wayside, life gets in the way. But, well, November seems the perfect month to re-kindle it.

At least that sort of appears to be the idea behind 'A Novel in November'--a national project to write a novel in a month. But I don't write novels. I write poems. And, thankfully, I was inspired by a poet friend who is joining her husband in writing a novel in November by writing a poem a day in November. So, with the clocks 'fallen back' now and the skies dark before I leave my office at 5:15 in the evening I, too, will be writing a poem a day and publishing a stanza--or two, or three--of it here, as my record. These are first drafts, like the novel. No more than the editing that happens in the instance of writing, set down to be reviewed later, but first endeavored to be written.

Thus, without further ado, 'If Only:'

I'd be your knight in shining amour;
your handsome, pro-bono lawyer; your short-skirted Girl Friday. If only.

Only then you'd be the helpless princess, the thrice-tried convict,
the lecherous boss who grabbed my ass and called me Billy Jean.


I think I'd rather just be me, and you be you, thanks. If only.