Ray’s ‘great idea’ was a writing group,
T’would be held at his house on the first.
Me and my friend thought it sounded great,
Ray didn’t want no one coerced.
So, we gathered there, on the first of June,
We blew hot air ‘bout our plans.
Some said they’d like to write novels,
Others, tales of Afghanistan.
Ray suggested we take turns to set,
An assignment or two or three.
To hand in by the next meeting,
To read out whilst supping our tea.
Well, the month flew by before I knew it,
And for Sandra, my friend, it did too.
So, of the six who met up at Ray’s,
The assignments numbered just two.
An old lady who came, called Sheila,
She’d written a tale of Japan.
Based on her time in that far-off land,
Losing all to a yellow con man.
And Ray, he wrote a good ’un,
As could be predicted he’d do.
A tale of a mermaid and a poofter,
Who met at London Zoo.
Well, the months rolled by, and I’d written nowt,
I hadn’t time, you see.
And Sandra, well, she had dogs to walk,
And she couldn’t miss TV.
Said Ray, “Look, if you wanna write,
You’ll think up an idea or two.
Then sit at your desk, give your TV a rest,
And do what you have to do.”
So, I made a vow and I promised ‘Sand,’
“Look, Ray’s a good guy, a grafter.
I’ll definitely write something next month,
Or, if not, p’raps the one after.”
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