Prospective poets at the Marlborough
Convened to write some verse.
They wrestled and they worried.
Some thought they were struck with a curse.

They couldn’t get the words they needed
Despite the use of a synonym finder.
They struggled to choose a suitable rhyme
Till someone came up with a real blinder.

That got the others using their imaginations.
The room was rich with creativity.
The coffee and tea fuelled their thoughts
While they were all held in captivity.

Silence ensued, except for pencils scratching the page.
They were all focused and very industrious,
Brian, Jean, Pat, Barbara JJ, Tony, Lynn and Julie.
I predict that at least one will become very illustrious.