Writer’s Chant

On this hot summer day
we meet, not to while the time away.
No, we want to hear what we have written,
whether by the output we end up smitten,
reading mystery or life story,
fascinating, perhaps even gory.
We each listened with fascination
at the other's abundant imagination.
I wonder where his story soon take me,
and what I write about, he's eager to see.
We are working hard,
each turning into a literary bard.
We will get this done by hook or crook,
'cause in the end we'll produce a book,
whether mystery or something clever,
we both end up exclaiming: whatever!
Both singing the joyous refrain:
Let's do it again. let's do it again.