Many coloured, dried leaves scatter easily in the westerly breeze,
As your fragile soul find's at last the light,
Of each day to seize,
Truth embraces the camera like a magnet capturing the audience,
Your one eternal romance,
All part of your dream that danced.
Eyes so innocent, sensual hiding your inner pain,
With empty years of feeling invisible,
In an indifferent society,
Always turning away from you,
Until you taught yourself to shine too,
With your fresh, unique look,
Then they took all of you!
You created such excitement, people relishing your mystery,
Spinning your special magic, which won you the attention of the world,
They clamoured for a piece of your sparkle,
You could outshine a galaxy of stars,
With the light of softness, humour, and sensitivity on fire,
But you always felt lost inside, fears filling your blue eyes with tears,
Tripping you up,
Norma Jeane your rise to fame was your fall,
With the memories of past rejections, low self-esteem and losing love,
As you tried to stand tall.
You faced your own brick wall,
Losing your footing far too soon.
After your shocking fall,
They called out your name 'Marilyn'
The icon you created couldn't win,
You still shimmer across the galaxy of stars,
Living in your white haven,
Without on your shoulder that dark raven,
You play now in God's garden every day,
In your own beautiful, loving way.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Norma Jeane by Hazel Durham )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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