Too Little, Too Much

Rhymes and words flutter in her head
Like scribbled birds that are left unfed.
A Painful melody holds them in tune
Twirling and turning in the gaze of the moon.

The deleted are those truly felt
Mistaken words are better mispelt
Stuff Kant, knocking on the phone
The scarf’s in threads, so curb your tone.

The favourite days so often lost
When words have just too high a cost.
Feels like a plug that’s pulled on toast
For the power of pennies sent in the post.

Words and phrases chasing the time
Constructing the meanings in couples and rhymes.
A painful melody holds them in tune
Twirling and turning in the gaze of the moon.