Author Archives: Suzanne Parlee

About Suzanne Parlee

I have been writing poetry since I was a little girl. Now an adult I find such comfort in words, in books, and the written word in general. I am from New Brunswick, Canada, a province surrounded by The Bay Of Fundy, and The Saint John River, only one hour's drive from the Maine/USA border. Beautiful province!


into the soft haze of our dreams
a beautiful reverie of emotions
into our most greatest desires
fueling sensations
stirring subconscious thoughts
imagination run wild
indulging without guilt
hopes, longings
vain stargazing
distorted, displaced
completely taken by our thoughts
do not disturb
this heavenly state
don’t want to wake
to morning’s reality
yesterday’s mistakes
and all that is

Tides Of Change

I dream of a stairway to the sky
spiraling upwards, upwards
to a tower so high
sparrow teach me how to fly
to the clouds

I long to be Rapunzel
let down my hair
sit and stare
through frost laden windows
without a care

My heart is sleeping, makes not a sound
winter has arrived again
while the rest of the world is spring-bound
like a clock unwound
filled with sand

I could stop the tide
I am colder than the stars
Frozen from the inside
reborn and shivering
confused feelings collide

A piano with a broken key
out of time and tune
Play me like a drunken symphony
The night wrapped tightly around me
a quilt of pride

Moon speaks to me in whispers
you’re awake
you’re awake
This is not a game of give and take
It is all a mistake

Room With A View

My favorite day
has no walls
doors of white
no shuttered windows
closed up tight
to stifle the cries

Crimson sunset
falls slowly
on the rippled sea
warm winds
bring back a part of me
I thought had died

Moonlight of glass
on a carpet of stars
soft silver hues
shadows hide and play
the soulful blues

within me
setting me

The Letter

Postmarked from somewhere
Might as well be nowhere
Written by no one
You’re invisible to me
How are you? How have you been?
Where do you want me to begin?
Picking up the broken pieces of my blood-stained soul?
I ask of you here
Go wash your hands in the river
Until the water runs clear
You’re sorry
It’s the same old story
I don’t want to choke on the lines that you feed
Once my lover, you stole my heart
Tore it up, then ripped it apart
Kept it in a box
Without a key
Couldn’t you see what you were doing to me?
You want me back? You love me still?
I can’t swallow you’re jagged little pill
The purplish bruises have started to heal
You’re weak
I’m strong
I’ve carried on
You’re invisible to me

Nature’s Child

Nature’s Child

In this complex world
I long for tranquility
My brain gone numb
Body strung like guitar strings
Having traveled the highway of city life
A hefty toll I have paid

Confusion and noise
Penetrates my very core
Anxiety driven
Struggling to breath
Slowly suffocating
It calls to me

Softly , non-intrusive
It dares not knock
To rudely awaken me from slumber
Chooses instead to speak to me in whispers
Only I alone can hear
Words carried on a breeze

Caressing my mind
Nudging politely with a knowing touch
The forest
A worn dusty trail
Welcomes me
The earth delights in my footsteps

Fragrant breaths of pine and fir
Heighten my senses
The trees seem to smile, happy
For they do not know of anger or greed
Suspicion and lies
Blessedly oblivious

I walk on through tall tussock grasses
Gossamer webs
A spider’s pride
Intimidating beauty of intricate flowers
Delight in the air , breathing new life
Into my cold lifeless soul

Shedding my layers of Armour
I am lighter, weightless
Battles of past and present lost among the forest floor
My heart once hard, softened
Sunlight dapples through the trees
I embrace the warmth like a long lost lover

Serendipity washes over me
I set myself down on sun-baked rocks
My feet, now bare, soak in an elixir of coolness
Listening to the stream talk to the dipping willows
Telling secrets of nature, its story is patience
Accomplishing so much, with an unhurried pace

Lessons learned in a school of fish
Teaching subjects of renewal and growth
Cattails sit high in their seats
Studious, curious
I drift into a spiritual dream
Awaken to the humid light of a sinking sun
Whispering promises of a better tomorrow

What would you do?

Without Sight…
Never again to see dawn’s early light,
Orange-yellow glow of sunsets on water
Cherished sweet faces of a son or a daughter,
Techno-colored rainbows after the rain
Wildflowers in vases perched on a windowpane,
Snow covered mountains reaching for the sky
Touching the clouds in a tearful goodbye.

Without Touch…
The worn out pages of a favorite book
Numbing coolness of a fast moving brook,
Soft fluffy fur of a month old kitten
Rough wool texture of a lost red mitten,
Jagged edges in the shape of your heart
Lovers embrace when they have to part.

Without Smell…
Baking bread with visions of home
Wind-weary oceans salty sea foam,
Cuban dark coffee, aromatic and rich
Fragrant smoke from a campfires pitch,
Spices of cinnimon, rosemary, and savory
Pungent smell of a fighters bravery.

Without Taste…
Ambrosia delight of a just-ripened peach
Chocolatey sweetness hidden just out of reach,
Honey in hot tea just before bed
Bitter words better left unsaid,
Icy cold beer on a hot summer day
Fruity red wine to chase the blues away.

…what would you do?


I watched her from afar
An observer
Hiding behind dog-eared pages
of a well-loved book
Her cheeks, soft, delicate
colored magenta
by the unforgiving wind
Voices climb and fall
I hear opera through the trees
Lovers intertwined
on a blanket of forever
Her hands, weathered
folded calmly in her lap
A ship sounds a lonely call
A cry from the sea
In her eyes I see a lifetime
of tales
Did she know love?
Droplets of rain
fall from the sky
I rise
as does she
Our time
as time
often does…