A Lovely Star


What a lovely star I saw, just before the dawn,

large and bright in morning light twinkling out so far

I questioned if it was a plane and watched a while to see

it did not move this wonder star among the sky so darkly

I watched and thought, it could be one saying hi

One who passed on before, that now so far resides

I walked on for a while and relished in its light

Looking and watching and taking joy in Mars’ sparkling sight

I had to go back inside and get ready for the day

But I knew as the sun did rise, the star was never far away.

©  Copyrighted:   CMM  2014

Eternal Rose


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

Keats Rose DSCN2709

Love According to Shakespeare


Shakespeare in his bloomers svelte
wrote of love and how he felt.
Yet he seemed to be confused
even in his witty muse.

He loved a lady fair with scarlet,
yet he often referred her harlot.
He loved a young male of letters wrote,
but begged him times a sorrowful note.

His mind of genius and of words,
repeated times are often heard.
In plays and sonnets and in verse,
thespians memories do rehearse.

So goes his thoughts of madness,
the soulful writer’s joy and sadness.
A Valentine’s Day of day’s remembrance
seek out your own Shakespearean semblance.

Copyrighted: 2007 CMM
Photo Copyrighted: 2003 CMM

(Dedicated to my son, and his Shakespearean Studies)

Dragon and Me


Dragon and Me So, I was looking out past the glass, when my best friend Green Dragon resting next to me, turned and asked, “When you grow up will you take me too?” I stood and pondered, and wondered a while, I looked past buildings that went on and on, and thought of being bigger […]


Jonathan Matteson as George Bailey as a modern version of “It’s a Wonderful Life”

If you have a moment before the New Year, this is truly worth the moments it takes to view.  It is a wonderful rendition of “It’s a Wonderful Life” with the past and the new.

Smile in remembering and smile in knowing…  not much has changed.

Striking Time


Tick, ticking striking out of the past,
no one hears the silent sounds

of the before, setting tones of today.

Hushed noised of the irreversible day,
passable times of yore,
left only in forgotten memory.

Cobwebbed shelves building into
the minds of the ones left behind,
to sustain the awareness of time.

Rhythm, slow ticking, echoes loudly
as dusty sounds of a year
stored in moth scented rooms of the past.

Tones of hours, twisted,
tenor of richness strikes the dome
of pendulums’ sounds.

Wound springs of life, unwinding
movements in celebration of life
and the poignant tones of death.

The world evolves, revolves,
the clock ticks winding its hours
tightly around the past.

Irreversible paradox of beginnings
going toward the endings,
reaching into uncertainty.

copyrighted: CMM 2004-2005

Enchantment


 

 
 

Cold wind whips ice-cream star dust

around the hanging frosty pale moon,

stretching the curtain on winter’s night

lingering just long enough…

Shinning white wishes on a

promise day of ice-covered earth

left dormant from tomorrow’s spring

in secrets of russet latent hope…

As a frigid coil whips frothy star dust

while a wanting bird chirps for warmth,

slightly flying into a frozen morning

he pauses to listen for company…

Bathing in the shinning silver wishes

hanging with the cold pallid moon,

he chirps again and lingers to listen

in secrets of still iced air of wanting hope…

Quiet resounding love threads the weave

of dawn with the promises of

morning, night and enchantment

twist blindly among the beginnings…

Copyright:   2011

Winter’s White


Preserved
limbs
frosted…

Linger
settled
crystals…

Quiet
sounds
lights…

Winter’s
hoarfrost
paints…

Portrait
frozen
white…

copyrighted:  CMM 2002


Jonathan (my son) as George Bailey

Jonathan’s rendition of, “It’s a Wonderful Life”

Train Ride


Screeching sounds of train breaks hollered through the phone,

wind and shuffling of feet, as the rumbling screamed

out again starting toward the next stop…

His voice strong and young through the phone spoke of his adventures.

Oh how he is following the many paths of his dreams; from one tale

to another he describes his life in the city…

Again, the sounds of another stop demanding the attention over the

noises around him crashing into the phone.  He asks about his sister,

how she is, now that she is expecting?

His voice, even with the competition of the city sounds, is stronger

in nature and in tone than all the noises competing with his time on the phone,

joval he remarks, “She will be a great mom.”

Tenderly, he refers to his sister; again the train slams into another stop.

“Is this stop yours? “ his Mother asks  “No Mom, “ he replied.  “I won’t miss it.”

He then affirms his devotion to his sister.

“You know Mom, she has a great heart.”  He said with a tender voice.

“I am so looking forward to meeting her baby.” He affirmed his expectations.

again the moment was taken over by a thunderous sounds.

All of a sudden the noise in the background became quiet.  “Has the train stopped?”

His mother asked, realizing everything had gone quiet.  “No, I got off at my stop.”

he responded with a clearer tone, no longer competing with the train.

“How far is your apartment?”  his Mother asked, with the customary concern and worry.

“Only a couple of blocks Mom,” he reassured her.  “Well, be aware of your surroundings,”

she replied with her normal worried tone.

“I worry you know,” she tried to say with a smile in her voice.Train for the posting train ridephoto

“I know, and thank you.”  His tone, equally smiling with the terms of acceptance over the years,

it was then, with his own great heart, he said, “Good Night.”

©   CMM   2012