POSTCARDS FROM THE MUSE

When all you get are postcards from the Muse
When every word and rhyme you choose
Lies dying on your tongue - unsung
And those she's kissed seem certain she'll return
You'd light a lantern but the flame won't burn
And the lines run round in your head - unsaid

And you don't want to
Know she sent me flowers from the
Gardens where she stayed and you don't want to
Know she rang to tell me that
She likes the songs we made and you wouldn't
Believe me if I told you that she misses you as well
And I know it won't help
So I'd better not tell

When all you've written sits bitter on the page
And though it mocks you, you've no strength to rage
Past fruits rot/fall at your feet - unsweet
Eyes ache from crying, there's no solace in your tears
You know the pattern well, you've been there for years
Comfort's illusions you resist - unkissed

And you don't want to
Know she's doing research for a
Book she wants to write and you don't want to
Know she rang to tell me that
She tried to ring last night so she's sending you
Postcards 'cause she loves you,
And you know her writing's bad
And she wants you to know
It's OK to be sad

When all you get are postcards from the Muse
When every word and rhyme you choose
Lies dying on your tongue
Unsung