Maria

Maria 7d

If I were a painter,
I’d paint you a thousand portraits.
Then you’d witness my regard,
stretched right out on the canvas.

If I were a pianist,
I’d put my fingers to the keys,
and ease a soft sweet melody,
that sounded like your name.

If I were a poet,
my pen would scratch the paper.
My affection would be clear to you,
the words so full of feeling.

But I’m afraid I’m not a poet.
Nor a pianist, nor a painter.
So, you’ll have to take my best attempts,
and know they’re done with care.

I may not be a painter.
Nor a pianist, nor a poet.
But I think that I can live with that,
all I want to be is yours.

Maria 7d

We Lived Here

there are ghosts
in the kitchen.
a delicate crust
of parties once held there.
late night conversations
and delirium.
a crumb of a pudding
salted by tears.
remnants of a dinner
seasoned by laughter.
yes, there are ghosts in the kitchen
confused why you’re leaving.
they didn’t notice
that the party was over.

#nostalgia #student #time #change

Maria Jun 23

Ode to Rivers

slinking along
murmuring words
whether or not
they are heard

a crack in the land
a wound not healed
gushing through
the forests and fields

flowing loosely
from the mouth
from east to west
or north to south

leaves will float
rocks sink low
glimmering with
a moonlit glow

elegant paths
with the softest of bends
and harsh rocky banks
through endless landscapes it wends

a cooling dip
in summer drought
and freezes over
when the snow comes out

a home for fish
and fairies alike
hungry, it swallows
all things day and night

there’s nothing quite like it
we need not pretend
and only at the sea
does the river end.

nature river rhyme

Maria Jun 13

The Flowers' Lantern

Golden globes form hollow hearts,
acting as a lantern in part.
A tailored dress, and ruffled gown,
make walkers heads, look down.

Parading past the riverbank,
for children’s smiles, we have them to thank.
They return, year on year,
standing tall and firm, without a fear.

The petals stiff, yet soft as silk,
hundreds on hillsides, flowing like milk.
Gleaming in the morning sun,
and boldly still, as the day goes on.

But all good things must come to an end,
the petals wither and the stalks bend.
They fold down and return to the earth,
until next Spring, when the daffodils rebirth.

#nature #flowers #rebirth #daffodils

Maria May 31

What It's Like to Be a Doorstop

Have you ever felt
like a doorstop?
A heavy weight,
waiting to be needed?

Have you ever felt
like nobody would notice,
if the door slammed shut,
if you were not there?

Have you ever felt
like a ***** window?
An irritation,
that nothing gets done about?

Have you ever felt
like people would be happier,
if they had no windows,
if they could not see you?

Have you ever felt
like a pair of old trainers?
A useful object,
but not worth admiring?

Have you ever felt
like it would be easier,
if they threw the trainers out,
if they could rest again?

Have you ever felt
like a broken pencil?
A piece of litter,
waiting to be sharpened?

Have you ever felt
like you’re beginning to wonder,
if they are ever going to sharpen you,
if you were ever sharp enough?

Have you ever felt
like it’s too hard to even ask,
if anyone will come back,
if anyone even notices you fade?

I hope somebody else has.

Maria May 29

This Funny Ol' Thing Called Life

In this funny ol’ thing we call life,
the world is full of hatred and strife.
Wars are waged, and tears are shed,
at the very same time that people are wed.

We flick between channels of misery and hope,
turning our brains off just so we can cope.
“Why should we change? We only will suffer!”
Don’t think of the ones for whom it is rougher.

So much changes, but some things remain,
peace and joy will always come with pain.
‘What is a human?’ I begin to wonder,
as the rain pours down and it begins to thunder.

Perhaps we are destined to suffer alone,
but at the end of the day, we are just blood and bone.
We stand, balancing hope on the edge of a knife,
in this funny ol’ thing that we call life.

#rhyme #hope #peace #suffering #humanity

Maria May 16

Of the Trees

Veins that branch up to the arches,
sun that rises, comes down, and parches.

It is mighty, it is strong,
it has been here all along.
The arms shield, the legs stand firm.
From tallest human to smallest worm,
it rises above and shields us all,
yet we hardly ever notice it, at all.

It is playful, it is kind,
it helps soothe our hearts and minds.
The fingers tickle, tease, and fright -
letting in the dappled light.
It sees us laughing as we play,
it entertains us, day after day.

It is noble, it is wise,
it has seen so many lives.
The body will shelter and explore,
we couldn’t really ask for more.
It braves the truths and grows despite,
living through the darkest nights.

I cannot help but admire,
the trees – of their company, I’ll never tire.

#nature #resilience #trees