Marty's Poetry Page
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Welcome to my personal poetry page . When I'm not busy painting and creating cards,  for a change in pace, I write poetry and prose. This is my sharing page.  I write on many topics.  I will try to offer at least one or two poems  per month. I hope you enjoy your visit. As always, I welcome your comments.
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Poems Below :

Note: All poems are
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and may not be reproduced or reprinted without the authorization of the copyright holder/poet. 

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please email me
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My poem:
"Beach Combing",
is about "words"
and describes how
I feel about writing.
Hear it below:

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I am a Lake on the desert plain and
the Omnicient Protector.
I am Victory at battles end and
the Eye of the Eagle
I flow as an invisible water.
I am the fertility Source...
yet, I often retreat, though I am of myself
an inherent wisdom.
To be possessed or to possess?
I shall be the property of none-
For I must be One
to fill and claim my native home.
When I am found,
the Light of Day, fruitfulness
and prosperity abound!
For God's light will be gleaned
in my Eagle Eye and my mystic power
will hurtle from my bow
casting a breath
into the Tree of Life.

Martha Meshberg
Copyright ©  2004

I Hail Thee

I hail thee,
Oh, Master Sadness of the world,
drowning in the ocean of thy
disconsolate words...

I hear thee set thyself apart
saying thou art a stranger
in these parts...or do
the regions of imprisoned hell
be the grounds
we all must dwell?

I see thee burdoned
by the digging of a grave-
I see thee alone-
and thou knowest not
there are those awake.

I give thee a clue:

He lives not far o'er cloudbanks,
but closer than a life vein,
inside of the hibernating soul .

He will not descend, but arise,
as a wick
to be lit by thy heart,
as a flame....

Oh, Master Sadness
all is not lost-
It deems thee  not to reach-eth out,
but doth deem thee
to reach-eth within!

Martha Meshberg
Copyright ©2001

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Shadows on the Wall

Existing like a shadow
on the wall-
an illusion made
only by the light,
darkened reflections
leave no trace of the real...
as the golden sun disappears
behind the revolving earth.

Night, the harbinger and theater
of dreams,
offers mysterious
and illumined answers
reflected upon an alternating
and opposite screen.

Matter, steadfast,
blocks the outspreading rays
beneath the cloudless sky...

For what is real
cannot  be seen...
'lest one unites with
the timeless, immortal
and placeless

Martha Meshberg
Copyright ©2003 
Wing-ed Horse

I shall harken to  love's music
and arise upon it's uplifting theme,
pondering ecstatic moments
as a Muse riding a wing-ed horse.

Let me soar through life... solaced,
as an apprentice of the sublime
and confine my journey
to the outer reaches
of uncharted space and time.

Martha Meshberg
Copyright ©2002

First Knight...

Indeed, you speak
from the depths of longing
for an encouraging word...
and yet, as an impatient apprentice,
challenge the "masters"
to a reckless duel.

Beating the bushes, you flush
and rouse the wary birds...Look,
One may see them suddenly fleeing
from their silent, hiding shade!

Of "age", this captured one cares not,
But that the fledgling speaks from the heart.

Of "critique", she feels it best
to push young birds, well raised
but independent, from the protective nest
to find their wings soaring upon
the favoring substance
of encouragement and friendship's lift.

Of "argument"...?
The Muse may reflect and say:

Such rhetoric holds no positive, creative power,
but is detrimental and the opposite of growth...
'Tis better then, to keep the mouth
quite shut
and the mind free and openly clear
to secure the proper, searching balance
one doth eagerly seek
to write of truth, my dear.

Be not afraid, nor perplexed.

Then, speak of your thoughts
on another's offering, tempering
your words with thoughtful care,
holding others as akin to the longings
of your innermost self...
and your interest will be doubly returned.

Martha Meshberg
Copyright ©2002

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