I go where my muse takes me. Come along, Pond! Says my Doctor Who like muse Riddled in red fez and swirling with a tangled mop about his head He wants me to fly in the blue police box filled with infinite wonder Sky high to literary heights and pull the lever at the sound of thunder Ripple in time and be the wastebaskets friend filled with wibbly wobbly stuff and stanzas to no end. I go where my muse takes me. Pop the red balloon! Whispers the old lady rocking hush Crocheting with my special hooks designed as pens next to the bowl full of mush. Hear little mice carry on about proper grammar next to the fire Sprinkle a line here and there bunnies playing near the sock as I retire Softly I go into oblivion, resting by the Sandman's ease Goodnight moon, as I write calligraphy in my dreams. I go where my muse takes me. Sip the Earl Grey! Frantically screams the Hatter like idea Tipping to and fro in my Underland ideas Brainstorm to a talking cat, invisible to the ...