Keats spoke of a rose and how it would not wilt.

This rose came only once and was not made of silk.

PIcked among a garden this one unique rose,

taken from the thorns, this flower she chose.

Sat upon his desk, and nurtured from the stems,

drenched in water, cut in a vase, and looking back at him.

He called the rose loveliest of any in his fences,

this rose compared to others, they had no defenses.

However the secret of this rose was not from one attending.

The secret of its beauty was truly from its sending.

This rose he said was more because a friend gave way,

now the beauty of the perfect rose was given to him today.

Swelling powdered scents flowed in the house and settled,

crimson velvet sculptured rose, green stem among the petals.

Beauty in its temporal form in nature’s moment bloomed,

eternal rose, deep within was nurtured to the tomb.

copyrighted:  ©  CMM  2004

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I climbed each step as if to say

I have volunteered to 

Set my journey on this quest

I step each step to do my best

The wind picks up and starts,

It wraps my scarf in separate parts

I hold it as if to say 

Turn on wind, I am here to stay.

Blowing warmly on my face

Across the walk I finally turn

Down the walk I smile to know

I have made it this far, however slow.

CMM. copyrighted: 2023

Ladybird’s 

It was a cold frosty day

sitting at a small table

just inside the café.

Charmingly name,

Ladybird.

A generation apart

she sat with coffee 

in one hand and hope,

Hopes of tomorrow.

While I sat with 

Coffee in one hand,

tempered thoughts 

of more yesterdays…

Menu stretched from

fried chicken to 

eggs and breakfast meats

without a calorie counter.

The Winter’s sun glared

into the room 

brought warmth and conversation.

We spoke of poetry, hearts, women.

Confidences shared in trust,

wisdom and knowledge 

was the spice as time flew

spent in a diner called 

Ladybird’s Cafe

copyrighted: CMM. 2023

Hanging just above

Mystic dawning caught my eye.

Lights across horizon ride .

CMM. 2023

a deep expression

Of nature early morning

I glimpse, smile, and pray

CMM. 2023.

aspirations

Time will see

What the paint brush

Gives to me.

CMM. Copyright : 2023

Pour a glass of wassail

pass them one by one

from the elderly at the table

to even the youngest one.

Say a prayer of thanksgiving

remember those who are gone

pray for the future that is coming

Do not forget a one

Pour a glass of wassail

Do not forget the sick and lame

Drink up with all the promises

that the good life stays the same.

CMM. Copyrighted 2023

Two years had passed,

absence of a son

not allowed to travel

not allowed to be seen.

The day had finally come

when I could travel

to see him.

The fall of relief

felt like gravity

swept through my soul.

I then let go…

CMM. 2022