Amazed that anyone should read
Let alone, like Mr Walton, print
The hesitant, shyness-crippled lines
Offered for the anticipated rejection
I gazed with rising panic in my mind
At my own words, mocking me.

There lay ideas squeezed from me
For other workshoppers to read
To analyse, to claw into my mind.
Mr Walton, what possessed you to print
A piece,un-edited,without rejection 
Such uneducated lines.

Just judge the accompanying lines
Julia 'flu' far better than me.
If in her bed I'd laid would there be rejection?
What about the varied crop we could not read
For you had insufficient print
Does one say to them, well never mind?

Other thoughts raced through my mind
Like poor Ian's distorted face in horizontal lines.
By Frank a first 'Sampler' in print.
Did Julia and he feel like me
Did they wonder who on earth would read
Items usually subject to rejection.

Three more times that word rejection
Must tumble to the page from out my mind
Like "The Locked Door" wherein I read
The anguish of Muriel's restricted lines
I wonder if she feels like me
A little foolish when in print.

Sad to see "A Funeral" in print.
Oh Pat, I hope when called there will be no rejection.
Should there be then call on me
Perhaps the victim would not mind
If we jointly perused the lines
That Mr. Walton would have us read.

He who took the chance to print what issued from my mind
His blue pencil of rejection somehow missed the lines
And so gave me the chance of other works to read.

Phew! Deep Breath. The work is done not "A Trial without Jury"
Sorry "No Blackbird Song" did sing
The thoughts of Sastina caused an awesome fury
But then "Rondeaus Ancient and Modern"
Brought "Fool's Gold" And "Hands" to wring
For even "Shakespeare at this Hour" had to learn
That "Sally and Me" perchance 
Must part. "It's Time to Go"
But don't forget "Remembrance"
"For Josef" from we who
Like Lindsay Maines rue
Working at the accursed two foot rondeau.