Sunday, August 5, 2012

A Poem by Marilyn Misky Braendeholm

My pleas dust cold stones,
smoothed flat from wishes.
Copper coins tossed
and drowned in water,
and yet I am a rudder
to hard hearts and cold
music. No tune can
carry this cut from my soul.
I’m waiting,
still hoping that you’ll return.

Marilyn“Misky” Braendeholmlives in the United Kingdom. Her interests include religious (gothic) architecture, gardening, recipe testing, baking yeasted and sourdough bread, photography, and writing. She has participated in four NaPoWriMo challenges, and has poems and fiction published/accepted with Mouse Tales Press, Sprouts Magazine, Poetry Quarterly, Jellyfish Whispers, Napalm and Novocaine, and Pyrokinection. She has two grown sons and two grandchildren. You can find more of her poetry at


  1. "No tune can
    carry this cut from my soul."

    Misky, this is a stunning line. And so true. Gorgeous poem.