Take me with you

Take me with you

Wherever you go

I am you and you are me

Your words will be in these pages

Your life will go on here

These pages hold many memories

From friends and Families

To truest loves of your life

Memories of Tragedies and Joys

This book will hold forever

Don’t open me and close me

Just to throw away

Take me with you

No matter the cost

If fate is to ever make you unhappy,

I will always make you true and happy

You will find memories of those days

The good old joys that make you laugh

I hold your other half, your faith, your love

The world can betray

Yet, I never will

As I am just a book

Holding memories and knowledge

That will come in handy

Where ever you go

Happiness Is

Happiness is driving full speed down at empty road at night, wind tumbling through your hair and the world totally silent except for you, stars twinkling and laughing from above.

Happiness is the crystal waves crashing over and over onto a sunlit beach, sand smiling and sailboats shining in the distance.

Happiness is laughing for no reason, panicking as your breath can’t come in fast enough, tears streaming down your face, giggles so strong they’re silent.

Happiness is the sunset on a hot summer day, eating watermelon as time passes ever so slowly, one good moment stretching an eternity, your existence enveloped by pure joy.

Happiness is snowflakes falling, coating the world in a calm white, everything seeming so clear and candid, the silence comforting and the stillness giving way to content.

Happiness is a perfect ending to an even better story, filled with satisfaction and pride, characters you’ve seen grow for so long become the people they were meant to be, reflecting on what they’ve taught you, smiling through the tears.

Happiness is seeing an old friend and picking up right where you left off, even though it’s been years, reminiscing and talking and laughing about nothing and everything.

Happiness is a dog’s never ending excitement when you come home, wide eyes, wagging tail, and a smile day after day after day after day…

Happiness is sunny days, being overcome by how gorgeous and gracious nature is, unable to process the beauty of each and every tree and flower and strand of grass you see, not even the wind able to distract you from your glee.

Happiness is the perfect song, each note guiding your soul, the melody touching your heart, the lyrics flowing around you like a storm, passionate and powerful.

Happiness is a smile from a stranger, their life a mystery, their circumstances unknown, their story unfathomable, but their euphoria clearer than day.

Happiness is youth, and memories, and the seasons you’ve lived through, and the wisdom you’ve gained, and the people you’ve met, and the ones who’ve changed you, and the world all around you, beautiful beneath both above and beneath the dirt.

Happiness is surviving through both the good and bad, pushing through the dreadful, and soaring above the excellent.

Happiness is living. Happiness is life. Happiness is here for all of us.

Dream a Little Dream

Leaves,

Vibrant, brittle.

Falling, flourishing, developing.

Falling is never the end.

Life.


Lying,

Never ending.

Brutal and ugliness,

The truth of reality.

Lying.


Anger,

Cause: unknown,

Ready to explode.

How can you forgive?

Confusion.


A girl young of age,

With a dream to be,

The princess.

A girl young of age,

Now in school,

Her dream,

Now forgotten.

A girl now older,

Scared for the future,

With nowhere to go,

She hides in Books.

Pages are filled with her

Friends and Family.

Her dream has changed,

And never the same.

A girl,

With a dream to

Speak her mind.

Too scared to bear,

The judge of peers.

A girl young of age,

With a dream to be,

Her young little self.


Everyone grows up with a dream of some sort. Whether it’s to be a veterinarian, a doctor, a writer, a musician, or even a cook. At some time, those dreams fall away to the back of our minds and collect dust and become forgotten. Around seventy percent of people never dust off their childhood dreams and actually go to school to be that long forgotten person. Life gets in the way of the things we want to do in our spare time (whether it’s sitting down and reading a book; writing a blog; or going to school). Sometimes it’s better to take a break and do what makes you happy, than to continue to do what make you frustrated and angry. Take the time to dust off your childhood dreams, and dream a little dream. 🙂

Long Poems

Earth

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

2-sunshine-shining-in-prison-cell-window-allan-swart

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