Sounds of a Breeze

dandelion seeds in the breeze

The breeze is all around me

enveloping me with a soft whisper


The branches of the sugar maple

sway back and forth

Leaves upturned

revealing their fuzzy green undersides

feathery and delicate

like the flower buds of early spring

and petals floating through the air

It isn’t warm yet isn’t cold


to sit

and be silent



Grasses wave gently

in the cool breeze

rocking back and forth,

back and forth

a sweet lullaby



The air is mingled with mockingbird calls

crying out

their melodious voices in rhythm

with the breeze


It comes in gusts

although not forceful



Do not disturb the calm

of the breeze.


-Marie Walters (June 2018)


The Dream

large forest at night with a full moon in the sky


I dreamt I was in a forest

Surrounded by shadows of clinking tree branches

In the pitch-black night

The cool white moonlight

Around my pale reflection

In a dried-up stream bank


I dreamt I heard noises


I whip around


And yet when there was really something there

I failed to notice.


I dreamt and feared the endless emptiness

In the misty woods

And my surrounded isolation

But I settled into the warm ground

Dead leaves, moss, and brush

And I fell asleep, shivering, in the freezing air


I dreamt I then woke

To a coyote curled next to me in the leaves

And above me a mouse that barked


I dreamt this was not a dream

I dreamt that this dream I dreamt was real

I dreamt I dozed off again to dream on the forest floor


And when I woke up

I was alone.


-Marie Walters (May 2018)

night swimming

bright full moon in a dark, slightly cloudy sky

wet tinted goggles give the moon a fractured halo

of faint chaotic cobwebs spinning white and gold

the water is full of dancing flashing shadows

faint songs drift over from the carnival next door

the soft smooth darkness blurs the leaves

that whisper through the windlessness

you drip on the deck in the empty air

in a clammy towel, water slips down your spine

around the porch light doomed moths spiral

their quiet wings flash across your eyes

and fireflies surprise you in the night.



1… 2… 3… they all left me, alone, isolated I am now

I now desperately latch on to a thread of friendship that is barely there

So, now I look back on the broken ropes of connection while I hang on my last thread

1… over there, never really there at first this one

All it really was, was a show to make us both feel proud

But together we eventually met realization, the devil that pounded truth in our heads enough to let the string fray quickly enough

2… a good friend, a best friend; at least to me we were

A thick, sturdy cable emanating strength it was, that could hold me

But instead I hung loose

All words tentative and risky I had to speak

In fear of the wrong one and fear of it all, pools of apprehension ruining my shoes

I let go of this one

3… all the new and fresh ones I seem to meet

Now sometimes I ask myself

With a trade of two hardy ropes, do I truly get even hardier ones in return for gods of torture?

No, the answer seemed

Now I seemed to be cursed with too many of the most fragile threads

Constantly breaking and constantly forming

Why did I choose to lay here with everlasting anxiety

Where every string seems to leave just as soon as I could relax

These pieces of thread being beacons of hope for me

I want an escape from it all but I know I will feel too exposed

All I ask for now is sanctuary

So, my last post (Summer Light Becomes) claims to be a Nove Otto poem, but it wasn’t exactly completed when it got published so the syllable count at the end wasn’t correct and I didn’t even have nine lines. I think I accidentally submitted it a while back since I haven’t been on this blog for a hot minute and then it got published without me checking it. Also I don’t really know how to delete posts or edit them, if either of those are even possible so I’m just going to post this paragraph along with this sappy poem.

Summer Light Becomes (Nove Otto Poem)

photo of the sunDelightful day on summer’s dawn
Calms me so much it brings a yawn
To behold the sight is magic
The sun creeping out of the night
The joy of the light brings no fright
Though the end of peace is tragic
But bird calls are hymns of nature
Elegance of noise manifested by this creature

This is a new style of poetry I tried out, it’s nine lined with eight syllables each line with a rhyme scheme of aacbbcddc. You can read up on it on this site.

An Elegy

image of red rose with quill

Tonight I will stand for you even though you have fallen

Your life may have ended but the light you brought with you is immortal

For you I will never let my heart sink in despair

So, I will never waste the positivity you have planted in our hearts

But to mourn you for one second I shall stand in the darkness with you until you dropped deeply enough your burdens will have left you

In this your mark is branded on our hearts

Even though you lie elsewhere

This is my attempt at a very abbreviated elegy. An elegy is basically a reflective poem typically for when someone has died. You could compare it to a eulogy except an elegy is more reflective and obviously in a poem format.

If you want to read some elegies, I have a website for you:


Quietly the light it gathers

slowly comes the start of day

tranquillized and peaceful forces

gradual trail from eastward way

Pastels of colors carefully formed

and crystal moons in the rising sky

through which direction wind is blowing

every sound echoes softly by

Independent, cherished gold

soulful, touching through beauty’s eyes

there is waking on the Earth

welcoming the warmth of the sunrise

-3344marigold, 2017