This is Kevin Ireland's 25th collection of poems. No poems today No poems today no sign of the muse there are pencils galore but no words to use. So it's brew up the teapot munch honey on toast no one can reproach her she's only a ghost. Yet I love her brief visits the silk of her touch though she doesn't stay long and never says much. She reminds me of you not just her sly look she guided the hand that started this book.