Acrostic Poem

Isaac Asimov once had a contest in his magazine looking for the best
Acrostic poem - a poem, each line consisting of 10 syllables, about a
science fiction author in which the first word of every line would, when
read from top to bottom, spell out the author's name. I submitted one that,
at the time, didn't quite abide by the rules since it was (sort of) about
Mrs. Asimov, but I did get a handwritten postcard from Isaac saying
something to the effect of "Janet says not to worry that I am tireless!"

I thought it would be neat to revive the contest here in tribute, so here is
my original entry:

Much luck to you dear lady Mrs. A.,
Remember we admire you so. Gee
Such patience it must take every day,
Isaac isn't known for his modesty.
Say, don't think we don't love him just the same.
As a writer none can ever top him.
And though we know he's as odd as his name,
Can't you see we don't want you to stop him.
As his books are over two hundred then,
Should he cease quite abruptly we'll all know,
Isaac's been playing, but not with his pen.
Mind you we know though, he needs his fun, so,
Oh, Mrs. A. don't tire him out. Such
Vision as his doesn't come all that much!

Hugs,

CatNipped