Watching as my thoughts took shape

In the corridors of my mind.

They just needed some stimulation,

Stirred with an active imagination.

I wonder at times where they come from,

As they are not thought of in advance.

Just sit down and hope for the best,

And God supplies the rest.

I am  not a poet,

just a writer of words.

Most can be just made up,

After I've had my sup.

Nothing copied or stolen,

Just my own little nonsense.

At least some have inferred

The truth in what I've referred.