(c) 2018 Edward York
My laptop sits on a fold-out table,
My hands rest on the keys.
I sit quietly in my easy chair,
The table is right above my knees.
A journal full of notes nearby,
With a pen that sits on top.
When the story flows inside my head,
I just can\'t make it stop.
Music plays softly in the background,
And fills the otherwise silent air.
Through pages, I traveled a thousand miles,
But never left my chair.
I took some sips from the glass nearby,
The iced bourbon is my drink.
It soothes and also relaxes me,
And it usually helps me think.
Sometimes the words all flow out fast,
Sometimes they move too slow.
I have captured ten thousand words on screen,
Only ninety thousand more to go.