As an aspiring poet
He was determined he'd win
He just had to meet the challenge set for him
So frantically he did scribble and scratch
To find words that would rhyme and match.
He worked tirelessly for hours together
Sparing no thought for the ugly weather.
He ignored the winds and stayed focussed
Concentrating on the work lying before him.
He was almost confident that he'd win
The first prize at the competition.
Then came the thunder and the rain
And he wondered if he'd worked in vain.
He listened impatiently to the clock chime
Realising he was running run out of time.
He would never reach the venue
At the appointed hour to recite his verse
And just as he was beginning to despair
A kindly neighbour explained with care
That there'd be other chances
To publish his poem and win acclaim
After all it is not every day that there is rain.
Sandra Martyres
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-competition-3/
