The blarney stone that must be kissed,
upon the young and old secret wish.
As leprechauns hide in the trees
Equinox calls for winter’s eve.
Promising to find a rainbow’s gold
while tales of Gaelic undertake of old.
Now the Celts beckon their clover green,
caftan plaid skirts give away the genome,
Threnody hushed from the past…
as renaissance of wishes forever last.
© CMM 2013
(dedicated to Stephanie n Jonathan )
Reading aloud, then silent we read,
seeking the wisdom of writers indeed.
All through our history we recorded in verse,
and later share and later rehearse.
All of the philosophy, and all of the rhyme,
that is given to us all throughout time.
Even as we mount the books on the floor,
the information we read, we begin to store.
We look for more wisdom, more stories, more plots,
we continue to read and to write the ‘have nots.’
For as long as we think and as long as we muse,
we will continue to read of life to be amused.
The understanding of ages and scholars and such,
as they reach for us in books and continue to touch.
The core of our being, the mind and the senses,
breaking down walls and removing the fences.
These writers and poets and philosophers too,
will continue to be there for me and for you.
What keeps us apart will join us together,
will lighten our load, as we stack and we gather.
So the next time you pick up a novel or mystery,
remember that this will go throughout history.
of sharing and caring and quoting the said,
and reading to little ones while still in their bed.
Copyrighted: 2002 CMM