The Path
Wet morning sand stick to my feet
while brown seaweed breaks into my path.
I travel to my beginnings toward the sea.
Watchful without pretention or notice
sounds of waves crashing and wind blushing
past me, as I step into the path.
On the shores morning and evening meet always.
Reflection of all time before me, and after me,
will continue long after my footprints are no longer
wet to my feet; deep into my path.
Copyrighted: 2016 CMM
Morning Stars
I woke this morning and over my head
Hung glitter of stars while I was in bed
The dipper was titled just enough to see
The constellations spilled all around me
Stars hung so close to the morning sea
No beginning, no end from the stars and me
Copyrighted: 2016 CMM 
Midnight Sea
Midnight and the sea and wind plays just inside the moon.
Beacons flicker on the horizon to remind the sea the ships wait until morning light.
Unseen Artist’s brush sweeps white froth clouds against a midnight sky.
The poet listens to the wind’s promise to bring a rain shower to lead the dance.
The dust of the day , the worry of tomorrow finds a journey into a healing crescendo.
Copyright: 2016 CMM
Home Coming
I go to the ocean
To listen
I go to the sea
To find the lost me
I go to the shores
To hear the waves pray
wet sand caress my feet
The wind to lift my hair
I go to the place
My beginnings to renew
Whirling around me free
I have missed you my friend; the sea.
Copyright: CMM 2016
We have walked into
our beginnings as far as
we can go…
now the sea calls us each to our purpose,
all that is left is to climb…
©Christine McNeill summer 2004
(dedicated to Jonathan the most wonderful
son )
Morning on the Shores
Sunrise
Morning on the shores
brings you back to the place where
you can hear sunrise
in sequential order of
light, flight and the rush of tides…
it is then I pray.
Sea and Free Will
Sea and Free Will
I am never more at peace,
soul, never so restless,
mind, never so engaged,
heart, never so brimming,
body, never so awake…
As it is
with sand slipping under my feet,
salt left on my skin from the sea’s wind.
the white aquatic seagulls call an echo,
behind the albatross breaking dawn…
to the heart of my beginnings.
copyrighted: CMM 2003
haiku
Haiku
Salty Swells arrive,
tide splashing, rocky shoreline
lone poet stays watch…
Copyrighted: CMM 2000
Light House
The Light House
I dared to climb
this Baldhead light
with stones and only stairs
The rickety stairs
the rackety sounds
was I brave enough to dare
Her open belly empty
from years gone by,
smelled dampen, musky old.
The ripened stilted wood stairs
went on forever,
dirt and mossy mold
One height, two
the stairs went on
ceaseless they seemed to grow
Two height, three
the rickety sounds,
the top, where did it go
Four height, five
reaching into the sky
I could only see more ahead
Six height, seven
Light has appeared
Given way from the feeling of dread
Finally when all seemed
hopelessly high,
the light reached atop
Globe, the bulb
the watchful eye,
we had summit the final stop
The island was seen
from miles around,
with sea in each direction
From fields and houses
beaches and mounds,
the island of varied sections.
We left the Baldhead Island
that day, sensing the past
and the sights
But the beauty one
could not see, were times gone
of channel lights
sailors and seamen
who knew when she signal
they were home and soon a shore
The welcoming of
the Baldhead Light
given safety; we ask no more.
Christine McNeill
© Summer 2004
Eagle and Child Inkling 