(With poems and plots I have sought to unlock
A game built on fending off my writer’s block.
By playing with rhyme my brain started to mend,
And now, free to write on, this diversion ends.)
Besotted, an ending, for what it’s worth…
She snuck in the back of her house, dark as night,
In her old woman’s clothes she hid in plain sight.
With “mission accomplished” she filled her valise
Then headed for ‘Frisco to out-fox police.
She heard that her partner had landed in jail.
The Feds soon showed up and kept tight on her trail.
– It wasn’t cheap, darting on, place to place –
Thoughts of the hoose-gow made her heart race.
Then up showed her twin, a slight delicate thing,
Looking for her share of the counterfeit ring.
The sisters transformed themselves yet again –
With bosoms cinched tight in the guise of young men.
Sensible gals, the two fe/males took care
To scruff up their shoes along with their hair.
A knock on their door was what they feared most,
’til He found them hidden – each white as a ghost.
He had beaten the rap with no priors nor proof –
And that woman he’d dined with seemed so aloof,
What would she know about counterfeit plates?
Neither one went to trial, for goodness sakes!
The trio arrived in the Hollywood Hills,
Scheming to once again print out more bills.
Their templates for twenties were hidden away.
Who ever believed that crime does not pay?
(Should you find yourself asking how this all began
– The people, the story line, where my mind ran –
Click way down, on Nan’s name – it’s on the right side
And find what I’ve written – that’s where it all hides.)
Hope this bit of fluff ends up helping you fight
The dread writer’s block, should it ever strike!
I’m leaving for now, with my words set free –
Time to get back to “Write On!” again with great glee,