Oh what spell of magic could he weave;
Were his pen a magic wand, a wizard would he be
Oh spell of joyous laughter sounds the place to start;
For powerful's the magic just one word can do to a heart.
But,...whwhaWhat's haHappening here;
The magic,...i'ts b-bl-bla-blackening his fears.
Oh spells of pain and woe, misery and disaster plots,
Oh Ohhh-no!,...destruction and world doom too,...WhaAAAT!.
STOP!, more ple-e-ease, it's not for him oh he does declare it's true;
So from the Wizard-Hood of Magic Words, he hereby resigns...WhewwwwwW!

AaaahhH!, now here's one more likely him;
A raincatcher of sorts...yes, that's what he'll be.
A special device for that he'll need for sure;
So he'll trade in his word-wand he will, it's not good anymore.
From the Cloudy Mist of Wisdom-filled skies above them all,
Tiny inklings of Heaven-spilt knowledge-droplets he'll catch as fall.
When word-droplets trickle-drip down just right for him,
A rainbow of perfection is there to see.
But, if a watered-down story leaves him stuck in a muddy strain,
He'll just try again another day he will...when Heaven rains.