The muffin man does leave before he comes,
And wishing to return from where he’s fled,
He pictures clear a trail of fallen crumbs
To follow back bearing a loaf of bread.
His face, against the oven window pressed,
Does know it only waits one moment more.
Then, knife in hand, he makes his final test
By pushing toward a hidden, sweetened core.
Tonight he’s sure the top is rightly browned,
So he may give a gift and win a heart.
Without any words, or even a sound,
He’ll hand her the bread and quickly depart.
For the muffin man is simply untrue,
And I may be him and she may be you.By Guess Stardust
