Shakespeare and Days of Youth
Perched below the shaded trees,
cools the sun’s luncheon rays.
Crossed in contemplation knees
are the enchanted Shakespeare days.
Tempered heat of springtime lawn
varid carpet lays beneath.
Lurching words without alarm,
bid from metamorphous sleep.
Anthony and Cleopatra fight,
as sonnets woo the lady’s fare.
Henry the IV comes from the night,
poets and lovers, a wispy pair.
The yeoman genius now buried in tomb,
leaves with the youth a place to learn.
While even when he left the room,
all other works are now discerned.
copyrighted: 2005
CMM
December 21st
Winter’s gray and silver sky.
Pry upon my watchful eye,
as I see the sun go down
setting shadows on the ground.
Yet I know and then I hope
when darkness comes that I will cope
with the fact that this will be
0nly temporarily.
For after December 21st
the snow will come from winter’s burst.
The sun will once again begin to shine
taking up more of the time
of day to give back to me;
my longing sense of sanity…
Copyrighted: 2010 CMM
Sterile Winter’s Return
Cold the sun
which days now come,
a frozen still breaths
a summer now done.
Barren limbs
widows time,
to watch and listen
a quiet sublime.
Oh, but the promise
of summer’s youth,
is lost among dried
leaves now mute.
The wind, the breeze,
does not remain
as time has come,
winter’s season reclaimed.
© CMM 2011
Building Dreams
If you sit around doing nothing,
no one cares,
if you build a castle
the whole world
slithers into the base
and calls upon the tide
to destroy it…
It is then,
you call upon the winds
to change the tides,
and build
your fortress of
passion
into the anchors…
© CMM 2012
Eagle and Child Inkling 