Gray Barn
There are barns that reek with cruelty,
with white washboards of dirty gray decay.
They stand barren against the bleakly sky
broken and worn from another day.
The wind now blows through them,
making sounds when the boards vibrate.
The barn keeps rhythms of the past,
whether good or whether it forsaken.
The winter’s expressions slide down the eaves,
of snow and ice and barren ground.
Now alone with all the memories,
making cracking gray barn sounds.
Bleached white and muted grey wood line
Covered with spots of unthawed snow,
Patches of green grass left from summer.
The smoky grey morning clouds hang heavy
As the morning light breaks into a shadow cast.
Winter has taken hold into arctic temperatures
And still nature stays attentive to coming storms.
Sitting at my desk I am taken aback as one brave
Bird dares to break the silence and sing of spring
Enchantment
Cold wind whips ice-cream star dust
around the hanging frosty pale moon,
stretching the curtain on winter’s night
lingering just long enough…
Shinning white wishes on a
promise day of ice-covered earth
left dormant from tomorrow’s spring
in secrets of russet latent hope…
As a frigid coil whips frothy star dust
while a wanting bird chirps for warmth,
slightly flying into a frozen morning
he pauses to listen for company…
Bathing in the shinning silver wishes
hanging with the cold pallid moon,
he chirps again and lingers to listen
in secrets of still iced air of wanting hope…
Quiet resounding love threads the weave
of dawn with the promises of
morning, night and enchantment
twist blindly among the beginnings…
Copyright: 2011
Winter’s White
Preserved
limbs
frosted…
Linger
settled
crystals…
Quiet
sounds
lights…
Winter’s
hoarfrost
paints…
Portrait
frozen
white…
copyrighted: CMM 2002
Winter’s Solstice
Winter’s gray and silver sky.
Pry upon my watchful eye,
as I see the sun go down
setting shadows on the ground.
Yet I know and then I hope
when darkness comes that I will cope
with the fact that this will be
0nly temporarily.
For after December 21st
the snow will come from winter’s burst.
The sun will once again begin to shine
taking up more of the time
of day to give back to me;
my longing sense of sanity…
Copyrighted: 2010 CMM
Winter’s Sun
Silver sky fades
into
fallen
season.
Trees barren branches
reaching
into
dismal
light.
Time takes back yesterdays;
weathered
sky
prepares
solemn
mood.
Impending winter will
be;
chilling
stillness
prepares
for
tomorrow’s advent.
© CMM 2011
Sterile Winter’s Return
Cold the sun
which days now come,
a frozen still breath,
a summer now done.
Barren limbs
widows time,
to watch and listen
a quiet sublime.
Oh, but the promise
of summer’s youth,
is lost among dried
leaves now mute.
No wind, no breeze,
does not remain
as time has come,
winter’s season now reclaimed.
© CMM 2012
Faith
A wake of hope carries the moon’s descent,
to ride off from the cold sun of winter’s promise.
to ride off from the cold sun of winter’s promise.
Is it cold that slows the squirrel’s journey up
or their strife of yesterday’s feast of stowed summers.
The nip of hope, and the sting from the unknown,
stand as cold air in a windless day of frozen temperatures.
Yet, the move of the hours will re-ignite the heavenly stars
biding rest to the weary feeling full of the day’s survival.
Copyrighted: CMM 2009
Eagle and Child Inkling 