Category Archives: Remembering


window picture

If I could look in your dark eyes again
I’d never again look away.
I’d watch as the sun chased the stars and moon.
I’d watch forever and a day.

I’ve learned from your absence as years go by
the bitter-taste of sad regret.
But the look in your eyes in morning light
is something I cannot forget.

I remember you, where ever you are
I think about you every day.
Know this my love if I could go back I,
would never again walk away.

c.d.m. 4/30/17


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Touched by Madness

In the winding wood’s of Carolina;
There on pathway’s up and down.
Nestled neath the pines and green fronds.
He said our bodies would be found.

One hand held a pint of moonshine.
The other bore a twenty-two.
Hours of marching as he taunted.
His threats had always proven true.

He needed no excuse for madness.
His madness came and went with time.
A word, a look, or passing fancy.
There seemed no reason nor any rhyme.

Mother hid me behind her body.
Staying between he and I.
Saying,”Kill me if you must kill someone,
she’s just thirteen and too young to die.”

I walked pretending I was elsewhere.
Crying prayer’s out silently.
Knowing if he killed my Mother.
He’d turn the gun and then kill me.

Then just as quickly as it started;
He’d proved his point and he was done.
Said,” Let’s get home and fix some supper.”
Went to the truck and slid away the gun.

You wonder why I’m most times weary.
Or seem to write from some dark place.
This is just a page out of my history.
Once touched by madness; it leaves a trace.

                              c.d.m. 5-25-11

[46 years after the fact]


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American Shame


Shame upon us America
we have looked the other way.
Refused to see or hear the truth;
believing what liars say.

Had it been our’s left there to die;
then perhaps we may have cared.
Those lost patriots families
painful grief we would have shared.

We just watched, our favorite shows
those so-called realities.
Ignoring those few speaking of
Benghazi’s atrocities.

Now the truth is coming out for;
all America to see.
Will we go watch some more TV
or wage war for Benghazi?

          c.d.m. 1/15/14


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Chores and Memories


Beans or greens,
I still can hear Momma say;
kids you can have both
if you like today.
Biscuits are ready
there’s no need to wait
now come on let’s say grace,
and fill your plate.

Smoke from a cook stove,
curls up in the mist.
Silence is broken
as Mom makes a list;
of chores to be done
while she is at work.
Your brothers in charge,
he gives me a smirk.

The neighbor called down,
there’s work in his field
girls gather eggs,
and get potatoes peeled.
Take clothes off the line,
and sweep up the floor.
She grabs for her bag,
then thinks of some more.

Need hick’ry wood cut
for the smokehouse boys.
Just remember those chain saws
are not toys.
Gas is in the shed;
please try not to spill,
cost’s thirty cents a gallon to refill.

Patty keep an eye out
for the milkman.
I hid his money
in the coffee can.
Don’t let your  Daddy see
where it’s kept please,
cause you know his drinkin’s
like a disease.

Tie the dog up,
so old Ned  don’t complain.
Get the barrels out;
looks like it might rain.
If you have some time,
play pretty today.
Wash up before bed;
don’t forget to pray.

Early in the morn,
these thoughts come around.
Like it was yesterday
I hear the sound,
of Momma and us kids,
and Daddy too.
Long ago echoes,
of chores we had to do.
c.d.m.  2012


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A Tiger by the Tail


Had the world in his pocket.
A tiger by the tail.
Believed he had the Midas Touch.
In life he could not fail.

Had the best of educations.
Honed manners precisely.
Climbing both the business ladder,
and high society.

He married a southern beauty,
had a child or two.
Then sought political office
and almost won it too.

Life will at times even the score
seems it did in his case.
Thinking he had the race sewed up
it blew up in his face.

Seems a mistress and a child
were hidden on the side.
With not a thought for his children
or heart-break of his bride.

Who then died a short time after
she divorced his tired hide.
Thus revealing his true colors,
a black heart bona-fide.

Had the world in his pocket.
A tiger by the tail.
Believed he had the Midas Touch.
In life he could not fail.

c.d.m. 2012


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This Time of Year

It seems my thoughts return to you
this time of year.
Old memories I find renew
your image clear.
I watch as weeks fly by so fast,
blink and another year is past.
This season always calls you near,
this time of year.


Events we shared invade my view
I shed a tear.
For then as now it’s just we two
my precious Dear.
I’ll not allow sorrow to cast,
shadows across our love steadfast.
Your presence brings no qualms or fear,
this time of year.


c.d.m.  12-27-11

This is an octogram style poem, created by Ms. Sally Yokum of

the rhyme pattern is aBabccbB,ababddbB

each stanza has a syllable count of 84848884


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Remember Me

Remember Me

It struck me odd the other day
as photos I did gaze upon.
Of all the faces I did see
four out of five of them are gone.

Eyes staring back; frozen it time
reminding me of yesteryear.
Recorded echoes from the past
sweet memories; I shed a tear.

As I recall the sights and sounds
of voices from so long ago;
the silence of this passing day
adds to the present sense of woe.

Turning the page then I did see
eyes smiling; looking back at me.
Without a word they seem to say,
” You know we’ll meet again one day.”

“So think of me with smiles sweet,
while you are there; and I am here.
For when once more we two do meet
t’will be no place for grief nor tear.”

              For my dear friend Jo,who passed away 11-9-11

                                    My Friend
I’ll see you on the other side;
that doesn’t ease the pain today.
For now I’m missing my dear friend;
much more than words can ever say.

Surprise gives way to sad farewell;
the common ground for all my friend.
Though I did see the tell-tale signs;
I would not see your journeys end.

I should not wish you here again;
a selfish heart would I have then.
These words of grief onward I send;
I’m missing you today my friend.

                                  Ora Jo Weston  1940-2011

c.d.m.         December 2011


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