The other week I took my son to see a well-read guy
Who wrote a novel all in verse. (A thing I've never tried.)
We sat around in folding chairs; our books were in our laps.
And then the author sauntered in, to our resounding claps.
The bookstore lady grinned and said, "My gosh, I love this job!
I give you Robert Weston!" And he said, "Please, call me Rob."
He took a seat, we said "hello" and introduced ourselves.
He talked about his favorite books; we told him ours, as well.
Then questions, lots of questions - yes, we really picked his brains.
He shared all his techniques, his secret methods, and his pains.
He gushed about his agent, cover artist, and the rest
Of lovely folks who worked so hard to make his book the best.
We asked him just how long it took to write it, anyhow?
He said it took him four whole years - the kids said, "Holy cow!"
We begged him, "Will you read for us?" He smiled and said, "Why not?
Just let me find the passage in this softback that I brought."
And as he read, the children all leaned forward in their chairs
To hear the story of a girl who eavesdropped from her stairs.
He waved his arms, he leaped about, he cackled, wheezed, and grimaced.
I gazed upon my son: his eyes were shining, start to finish.
The bookstore lady thanked him then, and asked if he could stay
And greet the children one by one to end their special day.
He shook our hands; he signed our books; he posed for pictures, too!
I asked him: "Do you teach a class?" He said, "Why, yes, I do."
If you live in the GTA (just like my son and me),
Then you can take Rob Weston's class, down at the U of T.