Long Poems


I felt like trying out something new, so why not a sonnet? They are very complicated though, and you need exactly ten syllables per stanza, and an ABAB CDCD EFEF GG rhyme scheme. Beware: it’s kind of dark. (The second poem isn’t a sonnet, it’s free verse.)

A girl fights the wind of an icy storm.

Her cracked, ice-covered face is turning blue.

Her billowing cape is so ripped and torn,

it is dirt-crusted, threadbare, and not new.

She dreams of her house, of her clothes and comb

as the wind relentlessly pelts her hard.

She wishes that she could get back home,

and to this, she would prefer getting charred.

And then in the storm’s one last daring feat,

her dusty cloak is stolen by the sky.

She is broken, but it’s not her defeat,

her body drops to the ground, her eyes dry.

She thinks to herself, This is not the end.

I’m determined, I’ll eventually mend.

In a world of darkness, where is the light?

In a world of wrong, where is the right?

In a world of no melody, where is the song?

In a world of short messages, where are the long?

In a world of confusion, where are the solutions?

In a world that should be clean, why is there pollution?

In a world of wars, where is the peace?

In a world that should be rising, why do we decrease?

In a world where some are wealthy, why do those take gems?

In a world where the piles of bad are growing,

why do you add to them?

Thanks for reading!

The Fate


I am sitting here, waiting for it to end

In a prison cell dark and gloomy

The end is near, I can feel it

That shaking fear exists no more

I shall be without a head, soon enough

For so long I have waited…

Just for the end

Though I will tell on lies

I warn you all

They will shroud the truth

I did no such thing to be in this place

I am of innocence

The love was never fake, nor were my words

I did nothing wrong to love and believe

For those in the future

I shall remind you of my time

That I will go in front of them all

But with courage and justice, by my side

I do not care anymore of my fate

That trembling fear is gone

I welcome fate with both hands

As I am a queen that will be at the top

And no mortals can take that title away

The end is near,

The courage inside rises

My head held high

As I face my fate

Morning Haiku

sun shining through clouds onto a green mountain range

In the ravines of

the fruitful morning valleys

fog rises slowly

driven by the heat

the mist is burned by the sun

water crackling

In the shadows of

the trees and beneath the ferns

cool air and calming

so that dewdrops sit

alive and in the petals

of a dying flower

Atop the peaks of

the greenest of the mountains

for longest miles

only can be seen

the breathtaking horizon

morning, sun, and mist

-Marie Walters, February 2019

For the Love of a Cat

cream colored cat laying with its chin on a red petunia bloom

Mischievous, Magnificent, Majestic; these words can only begin to describe the joy she brings. Magic, love, beauty; the thought of leaving her is unbearable. Happiness, laughter, and attention is all that she needs.

When one day she runs and jumps up onto the table; knocks off the plants and spills potting soil all over the clean, shiny floor. Shattered ceramics give the previously wooden floor a new rocky look; she marvels at her accomplishment, then chirps at the sight of me. She knows I still love her, no matter how close the scream is to my lips.

She stalks out of the room with her tail held high, her way of telling me she’s the fuzzy queen here. I guess queens nowadays are more mediocre in elegance because she trails out with dirty pawprints splattering the floor. (this adds to the rocky floor effect)

I am the queen’s servant. I must clean up the mess, for I have no other choice here. And yet I can’t help smiling at the thought of my royal highness. I can’t stop the laugh when my family sees the mess. Because it is impossible to be repulsed when you are a kitty.

-Marie Walters, 2015


Saying Goodbye

Stars in the night sky. One cluster is very bright.

Stars scattered around the blurry night sky,

it’s time for me to say goodbye.

The moon shining down, a flashlight from above,

it’s time for me to release my love.

Your shining eyes, my hurting heart,

you don’t want us to be apart.

You don’t understand, I must, I must,

just give me a little trust.

If we felt colors, there would be gray inside,

we are merely ants in destiny’s tides.

You promise to never, ever forget me,

but you will . . . eventually.

True love is deeper than the deepest wells,

so powerful, it you could never sell.

We stand there, I’m about to leave you,

maybe when I’m gone, you can begin anew.

You can get a new family and a home,

then you won’t be on your own.

Then the rain starts falling down,

it mixes with tears and the dirt all around.

So, the last thing I whisper to you

is that I hope all of your dreams come true.

One last hug, a couple of tears,

I’ll be gone for more than a few years.

So goodbye, I say, I love you so,

I’m afraid I have to go.

Away I fly, up to the stars,

past Jupiter, Neptune, Saturn, and Mars.

And on Earth you await my return,

and living your life I hope you learn

to truly let someone go,

and know that you are my home . . .


Bird Leaves

it’s not very wonderful when the leaves escape,

skittering over the muck hand in hand with the wind.

we need to pin their fragile bodies down

and shove them into stiff brown paper leaf bags.

is it odd that we entomb these tree-children in

the pulverized entrails of their cousins?

would it be better if we left them, soggy and dissolving in the mud,

interlaced with grass, to liquefy and pass away from us?

to nourish the sprightly greenness of a spring lawn

to weave into the food chain rightful place, to feed the worms!

better? that is questionable. but every time the wind comes calling,

I do what I have always done, and see the brave few leaves that leave,

away across the pastel evening, singing through the chill blue rush of air

escaped from the rake like birds set free

A Tree Stump Poem

I was the best in the field,

and yet my owner cut me down,

Now I have become a short,

sad tree stump for now.


Once I was a towering tree,

the bravest and tallest giant of the woods to thrive,

Holding onto my leaves like an umbrella for humans,

happy to be alive.


And then I was cut down in pieces,

and sold for my parts,

Headed to a factory,

and then to supermarts.


You may have broken me down,

but still you use me everywhere,

From lumberjack to factory,

my life has never been fair.


I can be used for writing words and numbers,

acting as both required,

Or in the cold, frigid, winter months,

you burn me for your fire.


But now I have been cut –

a tree stump just sitting here I will rot,

alone and abandoned for more than a year.


And yet I still have faith,

and courage to shoot up again,

Become taller and stronger,

unable to be cut by men.


But for right now, I will just be staying here,

My back aching from the bumps I got,

So I shall just remain a sad little tree stump.


-Lynette M. Hemingway, 8th grader