Poet

The fire has passed

The embers last

Long into time

The warmth still felt

As the days melt,

life tries to stay kind.

CMM 2021

“There you are,” having fallen into helplessness,

confusions,

lost in the pile of life’s debri.

I pick you up, dust you off,

dear old friend,

but don’t leave again…

I smile down at my long lost pen.

copyrighted: CMM August 2010

It was a loaf of bread,

a gift of love.

She struggled to say,

it is all I have.

Times were hard,

her family at risk.

She came to dinner,

from a dark abyss.

Picked as a flower

from spring she left.

Stormed in the winds

and soon was adrift.

It was a loaf of bread,

it was all she had.

she asked please

take it; quietly cried.

Copyrighted:  2018 CMM Publishers

I find myself (as I do every Christmas) thinking back to a

special lady who always made Christmas so loving. There was

one gift I always remember and treasure is the one from Grandma.

She was old and retired. She was living on a very limited

income. Each Christmas she would set up a tree no taller than

Two feet. It was artificial and set on a little table covered with cotton

from old boxes, replicating snow.

She would take the little money she had and buy each of her

grandchildren hose for the girls and socks for the boys.

Today I remember her going to the little tree. Her hands had

become old with swollen joints and trembled just a little as

she picked up the little gift wrapped in thin paper from the year

before. There was always a thin ribbon, usually red tied so carefully.

Handing me the little gift, she would say, “It’s not much.” I

would always smile to her and say, “Grandma, you have no idea

how much I needed hose.” She would smile and sit next to the

little tree.

Today that gift keeps giving back to me. It was love.

copyrighted:  2012 CMM

I looked past the window pane and saw the gray bleak sky,

and felt the chill left in the house where all the quiet abides.

I’m not sure which bird I heard but off in distance it sings,

And I listen until the quiet resumes, then hear him once again.

Ice has passed and snow’s to come, blanketing frozen ground,

as I walked among the woods a breaking crunching sound

of frozen earth reminds me of the labored year has passed.

We look for good news to come, and hope that will surpass.

This hope was birthed among the timbers and quiet baby born,

yet the world goes on the same, even after Christmas morn.

Listen, even as the year ends, Father times bids us farewell,

while the story remains anew among the promised tale

of birth and baby, poverty persist and still it overcomes,

rage and war and even death as life brought by a son.

Copyrighted:  CMM  2008

flickering morning fire
quietly throws warmth
across the shadows

no sleep lifts me up
from my warm bed
to sit in the dark

thinking, weighted
yesterdays forge
into serenity

praying in resolution
knowing the day
will be full

copyright:  2017 CMM

All Soul’s Day, has come to past,

just in time to remind at last,

we are very temporary here

snow has fallen early this year

So as the day brings us to see

The souls and saints among the trees

Symbols passing in nature agrees.

Copyrighted : CMM  2017

I wrote a poem yesterday,

I don’t remember the words

Or what it had to say.

I scribbled it and jotted down

upon old paper

I picked off the ground

Writing quickly so not to forget

It came flowing

The sonnet set.

I found a place

Behind the books

Stuffed it where no others look

Later I promised I would read

The poem of the heart

A now forgotten seed.

©  CMM  2012