remembering

Gray rustic canon

Hangs over winter’s river

Few could tell you why.

Many once gathered to fight

Forgotten, now a bleak sight .

Copyrighted : 2020 CMM

youtu.be/8LaHPmD8nuc

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

Cold evening

Hot chocolate

Remembering

You

Thank you

For being my friend

Even if it had to end

Your friendship

Lives richly in our sharing

Cold evenings

Hot Chocolate

2019 copyright © CMM

The sea whispers

Breath comes in and then out

In a distance it sweet roar

Crescendos in a swell

Of soft breeze travels through

I feel tranquilizing sleep

We try to linger in the unknown

We are just too human

So I fall asleep with feelings

Copyrighted:  CMM  2019

It felt as if eternity stopped in one day.

Everyone’s eyes were swollen from tears.

No one was talking, just listening, just praying.

A feeling of loss, and not knowing why.

A prayer for those you could not call.

Confusion as to what to do next.

You wait, you wait to hear, to hope,

To pray… 9/11 a day of eternity.

copyrighted:  2019 CMM

Twilight crest after

midnight storm gives way to verdant

grass, and hope appears …

© CMM 2019

I remember “All Souls’ Day” with a song I wrote.

Written by: Christine McNeill-Matteson

Produced with Kip Haaheim Music and instrumentalist

vocalist;  Jonathan Matteson

Music written by: Daniel Myer

Copyrighted:   CMM 2016

my grandsons and me

Walk free among verdant grass

Present will be past

Copyright © 2018 CMM

#SkyViewApp

Under the magic

Across the blacken sky is

Wonder of life and love

CMM @ copyright 2018

I find myself (as I do every Christmas) thinking back to a

special lady who always made Christmas so loving. There was

one gift I always remember and treasure is the one from Grandma.

She was old and retired. She was living on a very limited

income. Each Christmas she would set up a tree no taller than

Two feet. It was artificial and set on a little table covered with cotton

from old boxes, replicating snow.

She would take the little money she had and buy each of her

grandchildren hose for the girls and socks for the boys.

Today I remember her going to the little tree. Her hands had

become old with swollen joints and trembled just a little as

she picked up the little gift wrapped in thin paper from the year

before. There was always a thin ribbon, usually red tied so carefully.

Handing me the little gift, she would say, “It’s not much.” I

would always smile to her and say, “Grandma, you have no idea

how much I needed hose.” She would smile and sit next to the

little tree.

Today that gift keeps giving back to me. It was love.

copyrighted:  2012 CMM