Seasons

Haiku


Super Moon spills sparkles

Into the still water below

The Magic begins…

Rain


It is the rain
Sweet sound
Gentle drops
Of morning
It is the rain
And it dismisses
The winter snow
The harsh ice
It is the rain
It is promise
Spring will be
Soon

 

copyrighted:  2019 CMM


3rd Sunday of Advent

All Souls


An autumn morning with

crisp awareness of summer past.

Brings to memory how

the saints soon hover and last.

Orange pumpkins lay to rot

Along the porch and drive.

While chapel bells ring

calling ‘All Souls’, who still survive.

Copyright © 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

Autumn


autumnal Equinox gently arrives

warmth of the summer lost in the skies

Burnt orange and red are made of your dress

A sigh of relief now we will soon rest

From a summer of drought and too little rain

We will put it behind us; wait for seasons to change

Copyright © CMM 2018

Paradox


I enter into today with the celebration of loss and love —ed9ca-photo-218

I cherish your bedside as we said good bye and

All I could do is cry

It has been five years and your sweet desperation breathed between two places

Your eyes closed as some said the “Our Father” and others’  dark faces

Posturing, some told lies and some truths; you listened.

Reaching into the depths of the last moments, you closed your eyes

For the last time you pulled from a place we all know only once in time

You called out ” I love you.” The room quieted

copyrighted:  CMM  2016

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

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Fallen Color


Seasons golden, rustic colors

shed from the aged old tree.

I lean in against it in autumn’s passing

I feel the leaves falling free.

I step gingerly at its base,

pigmented color, bark’s earthy smell.

Feeling the gifts of ground and soil

symphony of change begin to swell.

©   CMM  2015

Autumn’s Wake