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C.M. Kelly Poem
Moon glow on smooth timber floor,
I feel I should head out the door,
To tell the moon how pleased I am
She came to visit me.
My shoes are off and it’s got cold,
She does not need then to be told.
Look in moon and you can see
All there is to see.
Moon glow on smooth timber floor,
Will leave my curtains open more.
©2026. C.M.Kelly
Copyright © C.M. Kelly | Year Posted 2026
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C.M. Kelly Poem
My dog and I sit in the sun,
A nice warm feeling just begun.
Sitting, feeling quite content,
Relaxing time for us is meant.
Then dimness, cold, as clouds come over,
Disappointed, there we wait.
We were happy, bathed in calm.
Now we’re feeling “What’s gone wrong?”
We’ll go inside. The day goes on
But that most pleasant part is done.
So, for all my bigger brain,
Important things are just the same.
Copyright © C.M. Kelly | Year Posted 2026
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C.M. Kelly Poem
Floating as a peaceful thing
In the calm water lake,
An hour ‘mongst the lake weed
Is all that I can take
Before I feel I’d disappear,
Under water, cool.
What is it that I usually do?
I must be a fool.
Here I float and dream and BE,
Soft green leaves touching me.
I am a mermaid.
No I’m not.
I am the things that I forgot.
Copyright © C.M. Kelly | Year Posted 2026
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C.M. Kelly Poem
Are you normal? Are you silly?
Are you pretty?
I forgot.
Are you peppy? Are you earnest?
Are you ugly?
I forgot.
So it is neither here nor there.
You do not need to be aware
of names and labels, categories.
You are your Very Self you see.
Copyright © C.M. Kelly | Year Posted 2026
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C.M. Kelly Poem
On Monday morning magpie sang.
I thought it was for me.
He warbled high, he warbled low,
With joy for me to see.
His head leaned back, beak to the sky
The tumbling notes rang out.
He would have sung them anyway
If no one was about.
As sun shone through the misty morn
His song continued clear.
The silences between the tunes
Delightful to my ear.
On Tuesday morning, once again
The scruffy magpie sang.
His liquid notes, from one to next,
All through the air it rang.
‘Twas for himself, the joy of life!
On sunny mornings, sing!
To other creatures, me and them,
True pleasure did it bring.
On Wednesday morning, cleaned the house,
No outside time for me.
On Thursday an appointment made
And that would have to be.
When Friday came I’d quite forgot
To miss my magpie friend.
Then at stormy evening time, I mourned.
I found him dead,
I cried because I realised
That he was old and weak.
But even so he’d sung out clear
And given joy to me.
His song goes on forever
Lilting, weaving through the sky.
A sound like that reverberates
And never will run dry.
Copyright © C.M. Kelly | Year Posted 2026
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C.M. Kelly Poem
What are these symbols? Letters? Ink?
Holding the meaning of what we think?
If I had been born in a different time,
Lines of writing would not fill my time.
I may have grunted with purpose that led
To all the words that have been said.
I may have hummed with feeling that drew
From sentiments I knew as true.
I may have hummed with a sing-songy tune,
Spoke to my children by light of the moon.
Now there is language, helpful and tricky.
Some of the things that we hear become sticky.
Is much of it useful? Much of it nice?
To receive in the morn when we haven’t thought twice?
Cleverly used and in most complex ways,
What is it actually trying to say?
Maybe the grunt and the hum as of yore,
Would help us remember what we knew before.
Copyright © C.M. Kelly | Year Posted 2026
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C.M. Kelly Poem
When you look at things straight on,
It seems to me that they are gone.
When sideways-soft you take a glance
Does visibility advance.
Being too Upfront-What’s-This?
Leaves so much that you can miss.
Copyright © C.M. Kelly | Year Posted 2026
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C.M. Kelly Poem
I want to hear the possums screeching
Coming from the trees.
Their noise starts out as scratchy,
Then a terrifying scream.
The curdling of the blood they cause
Can send sane people fleeing.
The cold murderer in the bush
Is who they are seeing.
I know a possum when I hear it,
Trying not to panic.
I need to run now. Get away!
Or things could end up tragic.
Copyright © C.M. Kelly | Year Posted 2026
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C.M. Kelly Poem
Big subdivision.
New houses on ground.
Sitting, just plonked there
with nothing around.
So close together.
How could they cry?
Without the neighbours
wondering why?
It happened before.
On our paddock too.
Homes for others,
all shiny and new.
Some might think,
About times before,
When sun hit the ground
and rain too and more.
The falling of trees
and planting of crops,
The sticks and leaf litter
no longer on top.
The house that I grew in
once wasn’t there,
but I don’t think
that I was aware.
The kitchen, my bedroom
had always been there.
Hadn’t they?
Copyright © C.M. Kelly | Year Posted 2026
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C.M. Kelly Poem
When violets bloom deep in the bush,
Just atop their little push;
When fungus balls puff out spores green,
Where they go is never seen;
When rock exposed to sun and air,
Some to keep and some to share;
When lichen catches glimpse of sun,
The living bell has just been rung;
When baby does her first breath take,
Other senses soon will wake.
When owl’s egg slow nervous hatch,
A glimpse of life ahead may catch;
In filtered air sun moonlight be,
But not to mortal ones as me.
Copyright © C.M. Kelly | Year Posted 2026
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