Twas the night before Thanksgiving, when all through the Panera
Many laptops were stirring, not one with an error!
Cute beads were hung round our necks with care,
In hops that fifty k words soon would be there.
The characters nestled all snug in their plot,
Our laptops drank power, so many watts.
"How do you spell ‘kerchief" and "unlock your caps,"
These writers were in need of a long winter's nap.
When out by the drink foundation there arose such a clatter,
Writers sprang from their stories to see what was the matter.
Away from their Windows they flew like a flash,
Some from their Macs, some in mid dash.
The pearly white beads matched the new-fallen snow
Which had already melted, it not being 32° below.
What to these writers wondering eyes should appear,
But a big city Agent to crush publishing fear.
With a yell about "spoilers" and keys pounded quick,
We knew in a moment which stories he'd pick.
No football Eagles or sports stories came,
But the agent loved these writers, and remembered each name!
Now Angela! Now, Mike! Now, Laurence and Nicki!
On, Heather! On, Erin! On, Ezra and Katie!
To the top of Olivia's story! To Brian not hitting a wall!
Now dash away, Roxi! Dash the words all!"
As dry scenes that before the wild editor fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, the bad words will die!
The agent exclaimed, ‘ere he drove out of sight,"Happy NaNoWriMo to all, and to all a Good-Night!"
