Less a Peach... more Apricot
I have no will to write today
The muse had upped and gone away
I guess I have not a thing to say
I have no will to write today
So it must be the embers of my drole
That forces ink to part my soul
Or is it that I must cajole
The worthless embers of my drole
What is it I should do, I wonder
To chase away this empty? Plunder-
-books or stories of the, Under-
-world to make me ponder
Get out! Get out! I hear you say
Leave he desk when you feel this way
Dine out for lunch on lifes buffet
Go meet someone, be not passé
So it seems that I am forced to jot
Whether the muse is here or not
My writing tree though once loquat
Much less a peach... more apricot