Long Marshlands Poems

Coming To The Garden

Long-lost secrets at Misselthwaite Manor.
Mistress Mary moves from self-centeredness to
self-awareness, leading to self-healing.
This tale's secret seems simple but not so.
A space to sense one's spiritual serenity,
children seek silence in a stillness place...

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cosmic dust spirals, 
supernatural storms born 
the Goldilocks zone


Free verse ~

A quadrant of marble missiles born

Ever since,
A dream catcher catches dreams
Jupiter catches meteorites and asteroids

Super-sonic projectiles pass Jupiter's gravitational shield
Shoots like V-1 rockets, destination is...

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I had found my meaning in him
I had found the nectar I needed,
Or rather,
The glass into which I would pour
The wine emanating from my soul
So as to paint,
On life's canvas, colourful rainbows
And sparkling bridges
To walk...

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On the  gurgling  remains of Winter 
as she seeps back into the earth  
on a path around a lake 
flanked by the casualties of winter's breath
cattails...
brown and bent with broken heads
backs turned...

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I catch a glimpse of you in summer deep		
Your auburn tresses floating through the trees	
Where at the sight of you a willow weeps		
And throws her golden leaves upon the breeze	
As you almost bring me to...

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Walking upon silent parched paths,
under speechless scarlet skies.
Your name sits upon the tip of my tongue,
listening to the susurration of my heart.
Each vibration echoes tones of lament,
conflicted by the principles of time.

Adrift in the midst...

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dancer in the dense vegetation
     of a marshland
 echoes
   a harsh-like call 
              a very unbirdlike...

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Dogs are the smartest ones
in all of the animal kingdom,
they've been man's best friends
since Man began to roam.


It's a great feeling to have one,
also very sad to lose one as I did...
the indelible memories on...

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So I find myself once again in the shadow of the crescent moon
Back to the marshlands in the throes of an ancient gossamer
Forest...well I can still hear your voodoo beckoning the spirits
And I too can...

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So I find myself once again in the shadow of the crescent moon
Back to the marshlands in the throes of an ancient gossamer
Forest...well I can still hear your voodoo beckoning the sprits
And I too can...

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My dear birds, an inspiration putting quill to paper

I love the way you're chased as waves crash on the beach

Invading my warm days and balmy summer nights

Dreams about the whoosh of grasses in the marshlands.

I’m...

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Way down south near the marshlands,
near the bayous, and close to the lake.
There is a city with its old wonders.
A place where no one barely sleeps.

Parties move up and down the cobbled streets.
The brass bands...

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I paint in series; same motif – haystacks, trees, cathedrals, water lilies.
normandy inspired many pencil sketches of sailing ships.
aunt Marie-Jeanne encouraged me; she was a generous painter.
boudin encouraged me to paint in open air, which...

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down the path of broken promises 
up the stream’s misguided dreams

shoulders burdened crushed and rounded
by all accounts tallied and squared off

countless breaths and tears held back
while chilling fears explode unhinged

tossed plans and schemes to wispy...

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Sailing up and down the sky
Hovering over the moist heathers
Soaring and sliding high
Dawning grey and brown feathers.

Spreading her wings with expertise
Unfurling her stripped tail,
She glides through the wind with ease
Looking as light as the dancing...

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Best of them fail to plan safe retreat, 
Napoleon and Hitler both were hit, 
Both marooned in marshlands— 
Ukraine sure well defends, 
General Mud doing its mighty bit! 
________________________________ 
Happenings |02.03.2022| Limerick 

Poet’s Note: Marshlands...

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Strawberry poison dart frog,
also called  a blue jean morph,
strawberry-red,
orange-red,
blue or black lower parts,
which are found in most parts of central and south america,
diurnal, brightly colored,
aposematic patterns,
warning potential predators,
living amongst the rainforest,
high altitude shrubland,
flooded grassland...

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