by cricketjeff on August 21, 2010. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
She’s not where she lives in my head,
I’m looking for slivers of clues
To where she is hiding instead.
The cricket provided no spark,
The weather’s just horrid and grey;
Humidity way after dark
Is so very far from okay.
So who is amusing my muse
And will she return when he’s done?
There’s no-one I want to accuse,
As long as she’s having some fun.
But could she have left me a line,
A word or a notion at least,
A verse on how nature’s divine,
A joke about hunting a beast?
If I were amusing my muse
She’d feed me with sweet poetry,
With metaphors ready to use
Or maybe a smart simile.
But as I’m as flat as a fan
Who’s singing a football refrain,
I’m sure that my muse must have ran
Away to some other chap’s brain!