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

Christmas Tea


Brown aroma filters through

the porcelain pot wrapped in

a  holiday Christmas print

Tea covey placed around,

Tied at the top with a green ribbon.

Pouring into the cup the sound

of generations past of many pourings,

expressed  within generations,

a knowing of shared time.

The warmth of the spiced tea

brings smiles caused by conversations,

of simpler  relationships in an eloquent

fluent exchange of Christmas gentilityChristmas Tea photo

Christmas 2013  ©   CMM

Winter’s Solstice


 

Winter’s gray and silver sky.Winter's Solstice

Pry upon my watchful eye,

as I see the sun go down

setting shadows on the ground.

Yet I know and then I hope

when darkness comes that I will cope

with the fact that this will be

0nly temporarily.

For after December 21st

the snow will come from winter’s burst.

The sun will once again begin to shine

taking up more of the time

of day to give back to me;

my longing sense of sanity…

Copyrighted:  2010 CMM

He Came


As the chickadee finds its nest,

among the prickly leaf…

The labored Mother sighs

as birthing finds relief…

Then nature joins a chorus,

among the star they sing…

Humanity realized His birth

of the Resurrection King…

He came among the world

in quiet winter’s rest…

Chickadee without notice

continues to make his nest…

Copyrighted:  CMM 2003

Hard Places


I have climbed to a place I did not choose.
I have felt the wind of discourse
The cold breeze of season’s change
Hard places alone into heights of loss
The view is one of escalating challenges
There is no end to the horizon
There is no definition to the time.

© Christine McNeill-Matteson

I Will Never Forget


 Washington DC putting flowers on Mom's gravephoto
Touching the ground, wet grass, and still morning.
You lie beneath my feet, feet that feel  as though
they are sinking into the very void of your presence.
Leaving barren ground to follow without you,
holy ground,  hallow feelings of yesterday.
You do not exist in temporal tomorrows of living everyday.
I kneel, to keep from swaying in the feelings of uncertainty.
I want to lie and sleep near you, to feel you again.
A fragment of time, going and gone, and soon to be gone again,
I mix the moisture of the day with the moisture of my tears.
In the passing of life as I seek to find reason,
I bow my head to pray. I feel the swelling of life and death
fertilize the ground inside my grounding, so that I may never forget.
© CMM 2011

Day of Dreams


157
Speckled spaces of sparse
clouds, covered captures of
shadows as shining sunset
peers in private perfection.
Lowering lights of last
twilights tempting timing
calls carefully a christened
day of dreams and doubts.
©   CMM   2012