‘It’s time’ I said ‘to write me another rhyme’
and nagging doubt set in and I thought( Stop rolling your eyes - I do that, sometimes)
It’s been so long, the voices chiming to get out have stilled.

Or are they merely muted? 
 Or on holiday somewhere hot?(the bastards)
While I work my ass off on this over populated island

This creativity of mine comes and goes
Slinking in and out of my consciousness,
unfaithful as a cat (and as greedy as one)

Oh for the ability to churn out poem after poem
I could sell them for a buck or two 
And buy me a cup of tea

Or a cup of Joe
Or a kindle book (which is on sale)
I’m not made of money, you know