Tag: Poems

Why I Love Poetry

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 3 Comments

poetry in chalk

Why I Love Poetry

The discovery that will change your life
Three things you need for love, truly
The one thing you need to survive your 50’s
What you’ve been looking for all along
The one thing you need to grow and change
Top ten steps to achieving true joy
Don’t do anything until you read this
What you’ve waited your whole life to find
Two things that will change your marriage
Three easy steps to a better life
If you had only known this one thing,  now revealed
The one simple thing that will change  your relationships
Ten steps to a happier home
How to be a better parent
Four easy ways to a simpler life
Why you should discover the secret found within these pages
The one rule to achieving what you desire
Fifteen reasons you should change  the way you are living, now.

Christ,
Alone.

And why I love poetry.

poetry red blue

In Defense of Poetry – ( The Defense Rests )

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall

poetry in chalkHand him the mike
Give him a voice
Let him take the stand and state his case
Spit it out
Hush the jabbering crowd
While she speaks
Raise your right hand
And tell us you will tell the truth
As you see it

The poem
Has something to say
She has the floor now
We are all ears, waiting
For her to speak her peace
About the doors closing, and opportunities waning
How she is too complex
And if not that then far too
Boring
She is not gotten
They don’t get it
She muses
what is the point
If no one is listening why even speak
To what has been said about her kind
They are not always
Kind
Yet
And when
The child in you
And the child in me
Slows the pace and finds the time
To walk into the poet’s corner
Peace prevails and no one comes out fighting
The economy of words may be sparse
Compressed and punctuation odd
Line breaks take you by the hand and lead you down a crooked path of
Words
no rhyme more than half
the time
But if you take a second
Hyperbole again
And perhaps go back for a second
Read
You may come to like
Or even love
Not the poems
The metaphors or simile
the poets forms and oddities
But the heart of the one who simply
writes
the
Poetry

Seems the jury is still out
The Defense rests her case

Hold Me – Letters From The Village

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ Leave a comment

Patient One McClellanville

Hold Me

Will you dance with me between the places that I go?

Embrace me in my living, hold me as I tilt the world.

Brace me in your warmth, lest I spill my all

Over the sides, while I slant and whirl

And still the spinning

Steady all the wobblels, falters, shakes and

Trembles, oh my heart

You said you would and still you do

A quarter century ago.

The puddling shows me how two are better

I see the low slung hammock reflecting in the sun and now I know

That two are better than one, for us.

The high, the real is strong and there

Its other half shines radiant from below.

Together there is beauty in reflection

Mirrored as they are.

Dance and hold me in my spinning places

Dip and dive and walk me tandem to the place of grace.

Walk me down this road of aging,

While we are still two.

Hold me, by the hand and by the heartt

Brace my soul, cup it safely in your palms,

We do not know what’s yet to come.

I only know I do not want to dance alone.

mcclellanville sunset jeremy

OneWord2013_ArtBl

Hungry For Some Poetry

~ Elizabeth W. Marshall ~ 8 Comments

 

In the living is discovery. And in the discovery lies the gift.

We but pick it up. And cup it gentle, cup it tender.

Hold it loose, not gripping hard the fresh young shoots of green, gift growing gentle.

And so it is with poems, little bits, morsels for the mouth and heart.

Pick one up and hold it to the light

To see what in the turning round may yet be revealed.

Little secrets tucked in tight. Little clues to life and love.

Poems.

How precious they that found me waiting.

I was not sure, what I was hungry for.

Craving ravenous in my soul,

Until they climbed aboard,

This life.

Held strong like barnacles biting down and gripping hard

To the bottom of my boat.

Or was it to the bottom of my heart.

The poems and I.

Or is it I who bite the bottom of the poem and hold on tight,

Catching a ride with it on the ocean of mighty words,

Wild and free,

Floating on the mighty sea of words.

I am joinging some bloggers over at Tweetspeak Poetry, a premier play-place for poets, word lovers, artists and photographers. They are a poetry daily and an award-winning press and the fine confectioners of WordCandy.me

We’re sweetening the world with a little poetry, once a month here with a blog post. I’ll be tweeting some wordcandy to friends and followers. And sweetness will pop up on Facebook and Pinterest too.