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From the Author

Note to self,
Take the long shot,
Hit it hard,
Aim toward the top.
 
A ten gallon hat,
Can't hold any water,
It's so very big,
I can say as an author.
 
A problem major,
Told by babbling Morse code,
With dots and with dashes,
The story unfolds.
 
Go to the North Star,
Everyone knows that direction,
It will point a man's finger,
Towards a cosmic conception.
 
Make the sound check,
For all eighty eight keys,
They are black and they are white,
To the ear they can please.
 
But I wish they were odd,
Like yellow or maybe blue,
It might be more exciting,
To break all of these rules.
 



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