She Says...

with all of the prose
that in my mailbox comes and goes
it is a joyous occasion
to find a note from my muse (of the male persuasion).

But I worry, I do, for my muse has been silent.
Has he succumbed to the flu, a virus that's violent?
Does he shun me, or scorn me or think me unworthy?

I miss his puns so delightful, his works so insightful.
Please let him know, should you see him pass by
That his rhyming counterpart says hi.