The duel of the wordsmiths
A room up high with no view
Rustling of paper and pen
The smell of anticipation
Wafting through the air.
Eyes wondering from pages to faces
Words going back and forth
They’re going through their paces
As they practice in their heads
Hands nervously above their holsters
Filled with their weapons of words
The count down begins…..
“Remember you only have 3 minutes”
It starts and I take cover
Afraid of being hit by
An array of strange words
With meanings unknown to me
I pretend I understand
My hands join in with the applause
Hoping like mad I don’t clap during a pause
Trying hard not to look too bored.
Then just when I wasn’t prepared
A word came out of the blue
It struck me right through my heart
Feelings oozing from the wound
My GOD! Hit by a stray word!
Caught in the middle of a battle
Slayed by an accidental blow
At the duel of the wordsmiths.
By Margie Thomas 13/09/06
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