Hi, my name is Snuggles. I am best friends with a little girl named Aurora Leigh. You might think I am talking about “Aurora Leigh,” the long prose written by Elizabeth Browning. If you were, you were wrong, she was named by her Mother and remembering Elizabeth Browning’s work.

Anyway , this is not about her, but about ‘Snuggles, traveling companion and confident. I met Aurora Leigh just shortly after she was born, and we have been close ever since.

So, stay tune, there are a lot of adventures I want to share. We will be back.

I Lost My Friend in the Rain



I lost my friend under the rain.

She and I use to run long distances

when we were young.

We spoke of sweethearts and dreams,

sports and basketball.

We shared french fries,

Dr. Pepper and coke floats.

She held the record for the broad jump

in school.  I played basketball,

I was a forward.

There were always tomorrows,

until I lost my friend in the rain.

She let go one day

leaning outside against her car in the rain,

it was suicide…

Copyrighted:  February 2018 CMM



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


I hope I will always wake in tulip sunshine
among the fragrance of green grass
growing near flowing rivers
while breakfast sizzles in
cast iron skillets
with biscuits
on cobalt
If this
goes away
in my memory
and leaves me for
another day in changed
places, I want to still wake
in tulip sunrise and still smell
the coffee brew to another time but let
not the reciting bobwhites forget to sound; so I will always remember.
copyright: CMM 2005