A Poem


she pauses, you are lucky,

(not that you did not earn it)

she corrects herself

I turn pause, and hold my tongue

Regrets, old people are so full

of melancholy , anger and antagonism

looking about, comparing

sniffling into the past choices

trying to eliminate the differences

from the closest to them

at all cost wanting the tally

to be even or the same

Time is a teacher of the cruelest

yet we wear it through life

thinking it can be silenced

until all is taken, the voice becomes

louder, and louder without remorse

Copyrighted:  CMM  2017

The Day of Valentine


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’s and 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?

© CMM  2012