Knell Bell


Ash, fallen losing its form,

drifting to places—

Places once given to life

now void in the body.

Blemished leavings of

perfect love and life—

Spent time, celebrations

now void in the mind.

Consciousness

to awareness made up

of dreams and hopes,

now void in the soul.

The ticking of the clock,

the clanging echoing,

noises made in the senses,

now void in the hearing.

Spoken words of promise

of heart felt memories

devoted love forever—

now void in heart.

We have heard many

warnings, sounding often

in the distance, never noticed—

until we hear the ringing.

Knell bell

final sounding—

Echo without vibrations,

muted sounds, never heard; but felt.

copyrighted: CMM 2002

Four Poster Bed


That four poster bed and me at the foot…

was the beginnings of beginnings

and the irony it took.

My Mother’s plight to come back home,

when our Father’s fights,

were all we had known.

Grandparents adjusting

and opening their doors,

no one needed to sleep on the floor.

The nights we laid, kittens in bed,

me at the foot,

as they snuggled at the head.

Quilts laid busy acoss us just right,

four poster jammed,

with three quite a sight.

As we grew older and given each a bed,

I will never forget the four poster bed,

me at the foot and they at the head.

I wonder in life when all things askew

and the trials I endured

whether old or renewed.

If being at the foot of this bed

gave me the will to survive,

in keeping my head.

© CMM 2002