Gordon Nightingale

When the fires are all extinguished,
When the floods have dried up and gone,
When the drought broken by heavy rain,
When the fat lady has sung her song.

Afterwards, what will you do?
What does your future hold?
When your youth has taken flight,
When you realise you’re growing old.

When the race is finally run,
After the starting gates are closed
After taking hurdles one by one
When the horse is home and hosed.

Afterwards, what will you do?
Will the bookie pay you out?
Will you be considered an also ran,
Or a person with a bit of clout?

When lost for good ideas and words
When inspiration fails to rise.
When every line you write sounds lame
And the truth turns into lies.

Afterwards, what will you do?
Will you tear it up and try again?
Will you throw it down and walk away?
Will you toss away your pen?

Aspire, my friends, to greater aims
Face challenges to handle and defeat
Afterwards, you’ll rise above
All adversity you will meet.