Poetry Muse

Chatty Muse

          Don't telephone to dish the dirt,
          I don't have time for catty;
          The rumor mills will have to close,
          my muse is feeling chatty.
          I don't have time to do my hair,
          I'm looking kinda ratty;
          And I can't stop to shop the mall,
          my muse is feeling chatty.
          It's been forever since she spoke,
          sheer months and months of mute-iny;
          It seemed my writing pen was broke,
          she'd given it the boot-iny.
          But now she's got so much to say,
          in fact she drives me batty;
          So I can't chew the fat today,
          my muse is feeling chatty.

~ Connie ~

[ by: Connie Hinnen Cook Copyright © 2006 (cjcook@mynewroads.com) -- from Connie Hinnen Cook ]


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