A Loaf of Bread
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
Keats’s Rose
Picked among a garden, this one unique rose,
taken from green thorns, this flower she chose.
Sat upon his desk, and nurtured from stems,
drenched in water, a vase, looking back at him.
The secret of this rose was not from the attending.
The secret of its beauty was from its sending.
Beauty in its temporal form and in nature’s bloom,
eternal rose, deep within, nurtured to the tomb.
Revised 2019 CMM
I Look to the Heavens
It is 3:00 a.m.
My hands cupped
Snuggly around my
Coffee cup.
The flicker of the fire
Reflects my feelings
As if it is catching
Pain with every spark.
The rhythm of my heart
Beats just enough to get
My attention that I am real.
I miss people who have passed,
the little furry friend I have lost
and Grandma’s home.
I cannot rewind time,
Or reset the clock of yesterday
Or recreate people who cause pain.
Sitting here this morning in
Solitude and still darkness
I am reminded of the truth.
I am present in the early morning,
I am grateful for found peace,
I look to the heavens always.
Copyright: CMM 2019
a barn they said
Frigid cold night
A trough straw bed
Cattle in sight
A story told
Who may believe
Baby behold
Infinity
Copyright © CMM 2018
I lost a long time friend last night. I woke this morning to the news. So this afternoon I went to a movie as a day out and distraction. The name of the movie was ” Mule” with Clint Eastwood, there were 2 take-away sentences. One was ” how old would you be if you did not know the year you were born?” The other, ” you cannot buy time”
1st Sunday of Advent
A wakeful glimpse
Into darkness that helps us
See past into the light
CMM @ 2018
Stephanie
My Gaelic daughter,
A child of grace.
A spirited heart,
An angelic face.
Fears of a mother
Go ahead of her steps.
No greater joy,
Her pain is kept.
Walk among the clover,
Feed under the thatch.
Angels go as you rover .
A lassie of no match.
Copyrighted © 2018 CMM
