Eagle and Child Inkling

Happy Birthday 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 called 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, his creative thoughts of madness,

the soulful writer’s joy and sadness.

A birthday we do with rememberance,

and seek our own Shakespearean semblance.

Copyrighted: CMM 2009

April 23rd, 2013 Leave a comment Uncategorized eagleandchildinkling

Dandelions

Dandelions, fields of weeds and scattered seeds,

these golden pollen spread.

The flower sweet,

the pollen wreak,

this lovely enemy of my head.

Dandelion flowers,

pastel fields,

masking ranting weed.

Dandelion flower,

so strong in resistance.

Please tell me, what is your need?

April 15th, 2013 1 Comment Uncategorized eagleandchildinkling

Coffee Shop Poetry

Voices came in sizes and inflections
telling their lives in all directions.

Stories of anger, mothers and life,
sexual encounters and academic strife.

Nationalities were all represented,
each as they stood an presented.

Works of art in a smoke filled room,
coffee ordered and quickly consumed.

Listeners listened and interpreted the verse
some as a blessing, some as a curse.

Emotions were heightened as one gesticulation
stood on the edge of suicide or elation.

Others subdued in memories of war,
while others recalled the evenings they scored.

Readers and audience like me were all strange,
as we take words and life and uniquely arrange.

Then step to the mic, they gave up their soul,
from the very young to the seasoned and old.

My hair caught the smell of smoke in the air
while I listened and captured the love and despair.

I turned in the end and stood to see
they all were a fraction of reflection of me.

Copyrighted: CMM 2004

April 11th, 2013 Leave a comment Uncategorized eagleandchildinkling

Blarney Stone

The blarney stone that must be kissed,

upon the young and old secret wish.

As leprechauns hide in the trees

Equinox calls for winter’s eve.

Promising to find a rainbow’s gold

while tales of Gaelic undertake of old.

Now the Celts beckon their clover green,

caftan plaid skirts give away the genome,

Threnody hushed from the past…

as renaissance of wishes forever last.

(dedicated to Stephanie n Jonathan )

March 17th, 2013 1 Comment Uncategorized eagleandchildinkling

Books

Reading aloud, then silent we read,
seeking the wisdom of writers indeed.

All through our history we recorded in verse,
and later share and later rehearse.

All of the philosophy, and all of the rhyme,
that is given to us all throughout time.

Even as we mount the books on the floor,
the information we read, we begin to store.

We look for more wisdom, more stories, more plots,
we continue to read and to write the ‘have nots.’

For as long as we think and as long as we muse,
we will continue to read of life to be amused.

The understanding of ages and scholars and such,
as they reach for us in books and continue to touch.

The core of our being, the mind and the senses,
breaking down walls and removing the fences.

These writers and poets and philosophers too,
will continue to be there for me and for you.

What keeps us apart will join us together,
will lighten our load, as we stack and we gather.

So the next time you pick up a novel or mystery,
remember that this will go throughout history.

of sharing and caring and quoting the said,
and reading to little ones while still in their bed.

Copyrighted: 2002 CMM

March 1st, 2013 Leave a comment Uncategorized eagleandchildinkling

Keyboards Still Play

Gentle steps of the keys play separately,

yet, together the music becomes a harmony

of memory and of verse.

Verse now resident of the soul,

to be written in prose of tomorrows.

Forgotten, we continue with music,

music of feelings never forgotten

in our today, yet the keyboards still play…

February 26th, 2013 Leave a comment Love eagleandchildinkling

Lost Letter

Cleaning my desk,

I opened an envelope stuffed

with keepsakes, cards, letters.

Crinkled against time, some tattered

with wear, I saw an old familiar address.

Pulling it from the pile was like pulling

a friend from the reservoirs of memories.

I opened it, the dust had settled on his words

as ashes and sand settled on his grave.

He had written to tell me that he was diagnosed

with cancer …

He reflected in ink, spilling his frozen moments

of time on the paper, as he waits for the rest of his treatments.

Slipped in the envelope was a picture he had taken

of a seagull taking flight.

It was this, the lost letter, I had looked for

from the past.

February 11th, 2013 Leave a comment Uncategorized eagleandchildinkling

Valentine’s Day

Oh, but the heart that has labored love

in laced valentine’s of past.

Cutting out the ribbons of red,

to give in hopes that love will last.

The confectionaries create their wares

and boxed in all heart sizes.

As anticipation builds in

the expectant heart she prizes.

The day will wear and waiting passes.

How will the promise come?

The time for many and then a few.
But, from the hopeful one?

February 10th, 2013 1 Comment Uncategorized eagleandchildinkling

Sterile Winter’s Return

Cold the sun

which days now come,

a frozen still breath,

a summer now done.

Barren limbs

widows time,

to watch and listen

a quiet sublime.

Oh, but the promise

of summer’s youth,

is lost among dried

leaves now mute.

No wind, no breeze,

does not remain

as time has come,

winter’s season now reclaimed.

February 8th, 2013 Leave a comment death, Poetry, winter eagleandchildinkling

Ole Missouri

Running on a wooded ridge

I stopped in

reverent pause

to see the water

brought by summer rains.

The Missouri River ‘s fury

floods spring’s tilled crops.

The fields hide in waiting waters,

the gray still-stagnant waters slow to recede

taking homes.

The hopes of farmer’s toil…

as he sits at a

nearby diner.

Sweat-dried hat placed

on the counter,

his burnt brown brow wrinkled

from worry.

The Missouri River

still continues to flow

near-by…

now back within

the levees,

quieter now ,

the rains have stopped.

January 14th, 2013 Leave a comment Uncategorized eagleandchildinkling

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