Comments about Charles McMullen
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.
The ideas flow down through my arm,
Out of my pen comes my inbuilt charm.
Word after word the sentences make,
Mimicking Keats, or even Blake.
Looking up rhymes on my 'Kindle Fire',