Late last night I had two story ideas,
They just came clear to me in my sleep,
The subconscious mind open wide, ready and deep,
Scanning thoughts, taking notes, writing scripts.
My two stories were great, I knew right away,
I’d forget them by daybreak for sure,
So I picked up my phone from the side of the bed,
Pressed record, spoke them out in a blur.
My phone is a nice tool, an able device,
A know-all do-all enterprise,
Will direct you around town, play music and chess,
Make phone calls, take pictures, so nice.
Come morning I rose from my sleep, ready set,
I reached for the nightstand beside,
It was then that my morning regret realized,
My dream phone was a virtual device.
I am disappointed, my stories are bust,
They may reappear, that’s my hope,
For that night of good fortune, I’m ready and set,
I’ll use pencil and paper for notes.