Outrageous Angel

March 12, 2016
by Marilyn Holloway

Outrageous Angel



There is one who whirls and twirls in a gown

Of flamboyant, sizzling, shocking pink.

You would not think she is an angel,

Yet she comes from the celestial realms

This wild angel of outrageous light

Who demands we take her hand

And dance!

So, shall we dare to cast aside our proper ways,

Our reasoning minds, all concepts of ourselves?

And shall we  step out with our angel there,

To whirl and whirl and laugh and twirl,

Till, giddy with delight, we fall

Into the the infinite, loving arms of All That Is?

And dissolve in a shower of flamboyant, sizzling, shocking


February 4, 2016
by Marilyn Holloway

A Home-Coming

I have wandered the road less traveled

To the far left coast of everywhere,

But now I  walk in ease

Through the clarity of great bare hills

And follow my heart in the silent strength of things.

A home-coming to the quiet place where I began,

The seat of wonder, the vibrant pulse of being.


January 5, 2016
by Marilyn Holloway

Moon Days

moon phases

You are talking to me again, O Moon,

Telling me how you have just slipped into Gemini

And how your waning face watches Mercury as he runs retrograde.

You feel weak and scattered, I know what you mean.

Just yesterday you were talking

Abundance, prosperity and consolidation.

Tomorrow you will be in your own house,

You can pull the shades and gather your power inwards.

Sounds good to me, too, I’ll make cookies and tea

And nourish my inner self.

When I come out again, I feel fresh and bright,

I’ll greet you as you emerge

Slender in your new silver gown.

© Marilyn Holloway

January 4, 2016
by Marilyn Holloway


This morning, for no reason, joy was dancing in my heart.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“I don’t need a reason,” she replied,

“I just am.  Don’t you know me? I am you.”

November 26, 2015
by Marilyn Holloway


St Pauls

The voices swell and bound to lap the grey stones.

They rise, smoke thin and fade in the dim, stained light,

Following echoes a thousand years gone.

Ten thousand echoes and they awaken them,

High in cold, vaulted spaces to return them here,

Here where the heart listens.


Voices made flesh in the ear’s, the heart’s chambers,

Pulsating outwards to hands, even to fingertips,

Prayer folded.


© Marilyn Holloway