In daunting storms and high tides, it screams.
At lazy times it sleepily dreams
while in peaceful hours it rests in silence
as we mourn humanity’s ugly violence.

The half of beauty is ineffable
this struggle of ages unchangeable;
alas the poet’s loss to decipher or notate
to crystalize and create.

The task of the poet and philosopher
is to package the wonder of the world
to chronicle the meanderings of the heart
like Yates, Ondaatje, Boland, Sartre.

Or as in the case of Wordsworth
to capture Nature’s mirth
to make real, enliven, concretize
heartache for the mist and fireflies
cliffs and wild flower smells
nostalgic river swells
in which the poet took delight
considering this bounty his birthright.

Every rose and lupine succulent
a gift from the glowing firmament
God’s melody and Wordsworth’s lyric
food for humanity’s aching spirit.


(c) 2013

Published by Marie Marchand

I write poetry to capture beauty in language and imagery in hopes of healing myself and the world. Poetry for me has always been a seeking. An effort to come closer to beauty, to explicate beauty, to behold it in words. I wish to formalize beauty, to give it a title and empower it to go forth into the world. I want to give it shape and lend it the capacity for remembrance. Poetry captures essence. Without essence, there is nothing worth saving. John Keats and William Wordsworth are my favorite poets. My absolute favorite poem to read aloud is Wordsworth's Lines, otherwise referred to as Tintern Abbey. And it must be read aloud at least annually for uplift of the soul. I have shared my poetry through various means including handmade chapbooks, readings, and publication. All the poetry posted on this site is written and copyrighted by me. This collection represents about half of my poetry.