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Mariella Hunt

The Tearoom

Recent Posts

  • The Rain Watcher: When Nature Gets Angry
  • A Death in the Family by James Agee: A Reflection on Grief and Loss
  • After Anne: L.M. Montgomery’s Other Love Story
  • The Artist and the Feast by Lucy Steeds: A Review
  • After Anne: An Interview with Logan Steiner

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  • Around the Literary World in a Year

    January 4, 2019

    A new year always brings with it pressure to come up with a resolution. Though setting goals often feels like a trend, I don’t like ignoring a clean slate. I don’t plan to do anything mind-blowing this year, but I know where I hope to be when roaring 2020 comes in.

    Writing-wise, 2019 will see me focused on one novel. Usually I plan on completing two a year, but I’ve realized that I take more time editing than writing. It means I won’t finish any books if I tell myself I’m supposed to crank out a second one after I’m done with a first draft.

    This year I will finish writing and editing my mermaid novel, writing poetry on the side for the collection I hope to release. I won’t be posting most of my new poems on this blog. What, then, will I be using it for?

    My website is going to be a reading journal. The goal is to read at least thirty of the classic novels I own so that they’re more than a pretty collection on my shelf. I’ll be posting about them as I go. For longer books, you might get multiple posts. I can’t promise there won’t be spoilers.

    They say that the person who loves to read lives hundreds of lives. We see the world through different perspectives, becoming the main character as well as the audience. I believe it; everyone who loves to read knows this is the truth.

    I will be drawing inspiration from this list but not limiting myself to it, as there are many on there I’ve read recently, and some that aren’t on it. Part of the fun is going to be putting together a reading list of my own, and when I’m finished with that, I’m going to post it here.

    I’m hoping to run a book blog rather like a journal, making commentary like I did with David Copperfield. I want to show you that there’s more to a good book than words; there can be magic between the lines.

    I hope you will join me, and maybe together we’ll find a new favorite book.

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  • l’automne

    November 17, 2018

    Your bookshelves are empty.
    Outside, the leaves fall.
    We’re waiting through
    The saddest autumn of all.

    Your piano is sleeping—
    Too great for my hands.
    Still, I will play
    ‘Til my heart understands.

    I took home your paper
    To sketch out your face,
    But you have a smile
    That art can’t replace.

    The trees out your window
    Have all become bare.
    So I search my heart:
    You will always be there.

    I’m thankful to have this beautiful woman for a grandmother. And I’m thankful to have her for another Thanksgiving.

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  • Owlhearted

    November 4, 2018

    I am owlhearted.
    I sing and then I rest
    On the highest shelf, on which
    I made a cozy nest.

    I am owlhearted.
    I slumber in the day.
    Fairies will come out at night,
    And that is when I play.

    I am owlhearted.
    You can’t deceive me,
    For it is not with my eyes,
    But my soul, that I see.

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  • Selfie at a Mirror

    October 30, 2018

    I’m learning to draw. It’s helped me a lot with my poetry and music.

    This is my first mirror self portrait. I’ll try again in a month. I’m happy with this, so I thought I’d share!

    Also—embrace the curves. :)

    Selfie Detail

    Selfie Full

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  • Ink & Gold

    Ink & Gold

    October 5, 2018

    I couldn’t put in ink a thought
    To justify the gold unfurled,
    As sleep began to settle on
    My precious, quiet world.

    No nature lover could have asked
    For her to stay awake.
    Living things could never work
    Without a well-earned break.

    Yet falling leaves can sound like tears
    As flowers die and stir my fears.

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  • Moonsong

    Moonsong

    October 4, 2018

    The Moon began her lullaby
    Long before I was born.

    She sees nothing new on earth;
    Why do I fear her scorn?

    If she did not like me,
    She would still have to shine down.

    She cannot pick favorites:
    All who live bask in her crown.

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  • Interlude: Autumn

    October 3, 2018

    I breathe. The scent of
    Dampened earth
    Is rising from the ground.

    It mingles with the
    Pungent smoke,
    A neighbor’s fireplace.

    My garden’s fading;
    Falling leaves
    Create the only sound.

    I settle down;
    October air feels
    Cool against my face.

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  • Tuesday Morning’s Child

    Tuesday Morning’s Child

    October 2, 2018

    Snowy hills have piled;
    Whispering wind is heard.
    Only Tuesday morning’s child
    Makes out every word.

    Frosty window-glass,
    Snowy blankets grand.
    Which dark things have come to pass
    Upon this frigid land?

    Things the sun has seen,
    Things the moon will mourn,
    Until every soul has passed
    Away and been Reborn.

    How can human tongue,
    Limited, explain
    What has hurt this land so long?
    Who can be to blame

    For these tears in the earth,
    An emptiness that grows?
    Words have very little worth;
    Tuesday’s child knows.

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  • Near Eden

    Near Eden

    October 1, 2018

    Water cupped in my two hands
    Bears the rich taste of the land.
    Paths that loved me brought me here:
    Eden must be near.

    Maybe when I’ve breathed my last,
    When what I know of earth has passed,
    I will wander, light and free,
    Underneath this canopy.

    I drink. The water’s fresh and clean,
    And I’m forgetting where I’ve been.
    Overhead, a pigeon sings
    Of love and gentle things.

    If I should dive, would I need air?
    Perhaps I would thrive swimming there,
    Gathering shells and greeting trout.
    I’d never come out.

    Pigeon pleads for me to stay—
    “Really, it’s a lovely day!”
    Eden is not far, I know;
    There’s nowhere left to go.

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  • Let the Land Rest

    September 30, 2018

    Why are you afraid to feel
    The yearly sleep of winter,
    When there’s frost-scent in the air
    And leaves from the trees splinter?

    Have you never longed to curl up
    Underneath a quilt,
    After a long day of toil
    Caused your soul to wilt?

    Wasn’t it the sweetest rest
    When you could move no more?
    The instant you rested your head,
    Sleep began its lure…

    Trees and flowers are like you,
    Thriving on the land.
    Do not mourn when leaves are crisp,
    But try to understand.

    Hear that rustle in the breeze?
    It’s nature’s stifled yawn.
    Go inside and find a blanket,
    Because life goes on.

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  • Butterfly

    September 29, 2018

    Trap a butterfly
    In the wood.
    It would fly away,
    If it could.

    It too longs to
    Spread its wings,
    Hearing what the
    Season sings.

    It fades into
    The sky above.
    Learn what it can
    Say of love.

    Where’s it going?
    Why was it made?
    Will its colors
    Ever fade?

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  • Leisure Time

    September 28, 2018

    Let’s sit in the Wood for hours.
    All our tasks at home can wait.
    I’ll point out the pretty flowers,
    While you talk to me of fate.

    My struggle, I must confess,
    Is living life to a strict law:
    Checking tasks off of a list,
    Seeking a day without flaw.

    The real flaw is to live in chains.
    Beauty hides in this still place!
    Sit with me, and if it rains,
    A deluge we’ll embrace!

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Mariella Hunt

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