Elizabeth Wrobel

I can’t help it, it’s what I do,
Called it an occupational hazard -- didn’t you?  
Something pulls me toward it, I try so hard but I can't stop,  
Conversations around me, I admit it, I have to eavesdrop. 
Being a writer, I find inspiration wherever I go,  
So be careful if we should meet and say hello. 
 Your name or something you say could be used in my next poem or book,  
Wherever I am, if something is going on, I have to get a good look.  

I'm always plotting a story in the back of my mind,  
When I'm eating, sleeping -- or any time.  
My characters seem so very real to me, 
A new chapter in their lives, I'm the first to see. 
I keep a notebook full of titles, ideas, and character names, 
 For if even one little piece of inspiration is forgotten, it would be a shame.   

I want to share my creativity with everyone,  
Allowing people to see what I have done. 
Let them sneak a peak into my imagination, 
Writing is my life's destination.    

 Walking into a library, nothing is heard,  
But the faint sound of pages carefully being turned.
  One day my book will be one of those turned pages,
  Books being read by everyone, people of all different ages.     

Walking through the door, the name of the best selling author is all you see, 
 Along the wall of a book store, one day that's where my name will be,  
Sitting on a shelf waiting to be picked up,  
By an eager child or adult who can't read enough.  

   On the front of a hard cover novel my name will stand out,
  With a brief summary on the inside jacket to explain what it's about,  
Or my name on the front of a paperback book for a child,  
With an incredible adventure inside to make them smile. 
 I want to be as famous as my favorite authors are,   
And have someone say that I followed my heart.           
                                                                                            ~©Elizabeth Wrobel~