kindness

The bard has long since passed away,

leaving us the beauty of his works

We laugh, we cry and wonder amongst 

the stories of yesterday.

Picking up the Christmas Carol, 

David Copperfield.

The poems, he wrote for his children,

a prayer of ‘Child’s Hymn ‘ still yields. 

A comfort for the children now, 

and brings to us his endearment.

for children in the world, 

who struggle below the bough. 

CMM. copyrighted 2024

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I heard an owl outside my window
Breaking dark and morning flight
Then another answers soon after
Together harmony hooting quiet

A leaf is heard falling softly
Autumn speaks a gentle sound
Lagging song bird breaks the silence
And I am the only one around

Rustic red donned the tree tops
Top to bottom as they fall
Sweet farewell for winters coming
Leaving the trunk standing tall

copyright:  CMM  2020

Steam climbs in harmony

With the flicker from the fire

Autumn chill is lingered now

I challenge my will to inspire

A run …

CMM © 2020

I woke

A morning pulls me to go out of doors

And stand among the cosmos

To allow the lights to christen

Into promise, will I be witness?

God is listening,

The universe displays his breath.

Shhh, it says,

Pray.

© CMM. 2020

youtu.be/8LaHPmD8nuc

Driving across country from Calf – NC with 130.00 will not be forgotten as long as this song can be played . 😊

It was a loaf of bread,
a gift of love

she struggled to say
It is all I have

times were hard
her family at risk

she came to dinner
from a dark abyss

picked as a flower
from spring she left

stormed in the winds
and soon was adrift

It was a loaf of bread
it was all she had

she asked please
take it, and quietly cried

 

Copyright:  2018  CMM

"Master, pity they servant ! 
He is deaf and 3 parts blind.
He cannot catch thy commandments. 
He cannot read Thy mind. 
Oh, leave him not to his loneliness; 
nor make him thy kitten scorn.
He hath none other God than Thee 
since the year that he was born . 

Lord look down on they servant! 
Bad things have come to pass. 
There is no heat in the mid-day sun, 
nor health in the way side grass. 
His bones are full of an old disease-
his torments run and increase. 
Lord, make haste with thy lightenings 
and grant him quick release."
 —-Rudyard Kipling, ‘ His Apologies ‘ 1932