GISELLE MARKS - POEMS

​Giselle Marks is an English writer, poet and novelist, born in London, who has been writing most of her life. Currently Giselle lives in the beautiful Isle of Man. Her family is grown, contented and expanding. She spends most of her time writing.
Her historical romances ‘The Fencing Master’s Daughter,’ ‘The Purchased Peer’ and ‘The Marquis’ Mistake’ have been receiving good reviews. ‘A Compromised Rake’ is recently released; it is a light Regency romance. A Regency ‘Gypsy Countess’ series is planned with the first draft of book one already written.
Together with her fellow writer and cover artist Sarah J. Waldock, Giselle wrote and illustrated ‘Fae Tales’ an anthology of fae and mythic tales updated to modern times and intended for teenagers and adults. All three books are available from Amazon. The ‘Princess of Zenina,’ and ‘Heroine of Zenina’ are the first two books in the sci-fi / fantasy Zeninan Saga will soon be followed by ‘Champion of Zenina’. Other long- term projects include a possible book of her poetry. Her poems have been published in Female First and she has entered two of their contests, scoring a win and a commendation. Within the Isle of Man her poetry has been included in the local Lit Fest poetry trail 2016 and in a number of ’Manx Reflections’ a local poetry anthology. Giselle has had short stories and a novella published in anthologies.
Books currently available
Fae Tales
The Fencing Master’s Daughter
The Marquis’ Mistake
The Purchased Peer
A Compromised Rake
Princess of Zenina.
Heroine of Zenina
Web site - http://ginafiserova.wix.com/gisellemarks
@GiselleMarks1
gisellemarksauthor@gmail.com
 

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Ambiguity
​

​Heart beat pounding,
Hope confounding,
All life praising,
Pulse blazing,
Eternal.
 
Gasping, disbelieving,
Ideas conceiving,
Higher rising,
Soaring, flying,
Perfection.
 
Submission or sacrifice,
Mutual choice,
Strive for more,
Raptures pour,
Together.
 
Eyes tight connect,
No misdirect,
Chain and link,
Don’t stop to think,
Solution.
 

Capture the moonlight
​

​You must capture the moonlight in a jar
Time will let you travel and take you far
Bespell the air, the wind and the water
Within the night you will trap the moon’s light.
 
On a windless night to a shiny sea
Chanting your raptures with radiancy
Turn the moon beam into a luscious flow
Hold it so tightly so it cannot go.
 
Store it carefully where it can’t escape
Carry it outside with dignified grace
Pour it over sanctified hands so thin
Let it sink deeply down within your skin.
 
Move inside the dark and let liquid glow
Reach into nature’s beauty as you go
Heal sickness, destroy decay, create life
Excise the evil with the moonlight knife.
 

Do Not Ask Fairies Questions
​

​Do not ask fairies questions,
Do not ask.
Danger abounds,
time slows down
Do not ask!
 
Do not ask fairies questions
Do not ask.
Sudden changes,
people vanish
Do not ask!
 
Do not ask fairies questions
Do not ask.
Times flashes on,
years gone
Do not ask!
 
Do not ask fairies questions
Do not ask.
No reply
People may die
Do not ask!
 
Do not ask fairies questions
Do not ask.
Good luck given,
thank them but
Do not ask!
 
Do not ask fairies questions
Do not ask.
A human child,
snatched!
Do not ask!
 
 

Poetry Game
​

​I have come to the sad conclusion,
I must hereby honestly confess,
I fear it is no mystic delusion
but it’s hard to be a poetess.
Now I know I can’t be compared
With The Poetess, Sappho of yore,
but please this needs to be shared
so let me tell you some more,
Now Sappho was very unlucky
Jealous men chose to burn her odes
I have no intention to get mucky
As Sappho walked alternate roads.
 
Poets need stratagems in today’s age
if they hope to ever make a splash.
Not just special words upon a page
when they want to grab some cash.
So carefully polish your erudite verse
if you must, but learn to talk the talk.
Kitsch is the key for better or worse,
Pose provocatively, do a funny walk.
Wear dreads, never comb your hair
Describe how you followed your muse
Your poems are good? People don’t care,
without glitz and showmanship you’ll lose!
 
Poetry don’t sell they will tell you
but if you make enough fuss
you might find fame will accrue
if you say fuck a lot and cuss.
If you’re white and have no accent
Of an ethnically interesting shore
Then hours of writing time spent
are nothing without gimmicks galore.
But if you can join the gravy train
of grants, then pundits will acclaim
that you as modern bard do reign.
So flaunt yourself, have no shame.
That is how you play the poetry game!
 

Forest of the Dark
​

​Night falls fast as wild woods awake
wrapping tightly a lonely soul
listening lost to sounds unexplained.
Fears fester as blindness presses in.
Scratching, scuffling noises nearby,
percussive imaginings unfurl.
Fragrant scents smother sensation
sweet yet cloying tastes redolent
of death and nature uncontrolled.
Blackening dark unsettles more
confusing direction with distance
Blundering through webs and thickets
Stumbling, heartbeat thundering
Terror trembling struggle with thought.
Stop! Take comfort the precious moon
Glints through the canopy of leaves
and guides his footsteps on to home.