There once was a writer at night
Who wrote all the way to daylight.
His stories were grand
About a sun-drenched land
But his descriptions were never quite right.
There once was a writer at night
Who wrote all the way to daylight.
His stories were grand
About a sun-drenched land
But his descriptions were never quite right.
Filed under 2020, Monday morning writing joke, Poetry by David E. Booker
Tagged as daylight, joke, limerick, Monday, night, writing humor