Biography of Charles McMullen
Born in Eastleigh, Hampshire.
Secondary Modern Education, Wyvern, Fair Oak.
Sheet Metal Worker, Tinsmith & Welder. British Rail.
University of Southampton, Romantic Poetry.
Charles McMullen's Works:
A Posy of Poems
A Life in Bits
Charles McMullen Poems
The Birth Of Christ
Late upon a winters night, There became a wondrous sight. The angel of the Lord shone around, To all amazed upon the ground.
How is my love when she's alone? Miles apart and doesn't phone. Where is the justice that lets us pine? Is the pain hers and also mine?
I wait for inspiration to envelop me, And then I find I'm on a spree. Where it comes from I don't know, I just follow like footsteps in the snow.
Where is the truth we often ask, This is usually a strenuous task. People deceiving with there big black lies, Even though they wear smart neckties.
Angel On The Isle Of Wight
Why did Superboy play in the doorway, Of number 11 up from the slipway. Then on down the road another boy asked, 'What number comes after 110? ' then,
Ode On My Mother's Passing On
As I wander down life’s fateful road, My thoughts are like a birthing Surinam toad. Born in the middle then coming out right, Out to the back but hold on tight.
The Flight Of Pegasus
Pegasus flew through my window this afternoon, M’thought he’d never come, but he came quite soon. There’d been a tiny silver wet element on a lash of my eye, T’id not mean t’was I forlorn or t’would die.
Out of the still the thunder roared, Out of the dark the lightening soared. Two powers of nature heavenly made, That God is angry is often said.
The Very Good Friend
Now Simon is a poet chef, He rhymes with all his food. On the plate is none left, His nosh is all so good.
Oh pretty fragile leaf of red and brown, most splendid of all out of town. Copy of a Zulu warrior’s shield, handsome thing of nature’s yield.
I wait in the cavern beneath the falls, Whilst you are locked up between the walls. My mind is skating o’er the top, But sure ‘tis a very long way to drop.
Smoking (Ashes To Ashes)
Do they really need a nipple, While they quaff their tipple. Even though the barmaid tries’ She gets a cloud puffed in her eyes.
Sea Going Ditty
The liner gushes softly through the waves, Designed with contours so it saves Kiddies in paddlin’ pools, Old men on bar stools.
Drear aged place the old home was, Splendid is the new home. Beautiful ‘tis now because, Full of freshness it has become.
Where shall we go, what shall we do?
Something to please both us two.
We could go to the park,
Just for a lark.
Or sit in the garden
And watch the birds then.
Forget about our worries,
‘N turn a deaf ear to the lorries.