Biography of Marie Causey
The Poet: Marie Causey
On the 5th March 1959, a marvellous poet was born in Newton Le Willows Lancashire to George and Elsie Hurst. Her Name Marie Shirley Hurst. Marie also has a brother John & a sister Dorothy. In 1990, she became Marie Causey. Thanks to Phil. Marie has 2 children named Joanne & Sonya. Joanne and Sonya have given her 4 grandchildren; Fatima & Ibrahim, and Joshua & Jamie. Marie loves being a grandmother, She is very proud of her daughters and grandchildren.
Marie Causey, now 53 is a successful & vivacious poet. In the 1970’s, Marie was delighted to find that one of her poems, ‘Down in the Valley’ (a miner’s poem.) , had been exhibitioned in Ashton Library. This incidentally was her favourite poem! More good luck followed as she wrote a poetic book named ‘Coal Dust’.
‘Coal Dust’ was a tribute to her father George Hurst. He had worked as a miner since he was 14. Sadly, he died in 1988 aged 68.
Nowadays, in her spare time, Marie practices Spirit Art and Card Making. However, the rest of the time, she is writing hundreds of poems. All spectacular in every way! She has been interested in poetry from a young age.
Marie Causey is witty with words & shows her emotion in every phenomenal poems. Spine tingling poems are produced, filling you with passion. A few of them can be found at Poemhunter.com.
The brilliance of Marie Causey’s mind & heart gleams bright in all of her poems. Marie has a remarkable future in poetry ahead of her. She should continue for the sake of her fans, friends & family.
Marie Causey's Works:
Coal Dust By Marie Causey
Marie Causey Poems
The menopause arrives with out warning Childbearing days over as day is dawning Hot flushes, tears sheer unease HRT patches work for me please
When it started I thought the spot was just a bite Then more joined up I knew something wasnt right Next my skin began to pain, ache, and kind of tingle The On call doctor said you have got shingles
Johnny stood besides his brother crying Tommy look after mother, He was going to fight a bloody war tears fell as he walked out the door
Marie The Poet
After She Made It to the News papers life was never same again people recognised her as a POET, it became a blooming pain In Tesco everyone would look, in the chemist they would wink Being a famous Poet was harder than anyone would think
We say we are twin sisters separated before birth, my sister dot and me We seem to do and think the same each day, unbelievably One of us has an idea, The other carries it out Twins separated before birth that's what we two are about
Lucky Lucky Lucky
Lucky Lucky lucky Spanish Sellers shout it warns other sellers English Tourists here Lucky lucky lucky lets make a few bob today Sell to young English ones, what ever you may
My crystal I hold you in my hand Take me to a far away land here on earth or up in space, Take me to a far away place
The Tree Of Death
It was a really lovely tree Roots deep spread underground Its beauty made the people smile They came to see it from miles around
I Am Still Here
Hello I am still here My mother used to visit a medium A lovely old dear
Two angels in a sat bar one night Thinking something's wrong, it isn't right its like a silence has fallen over the earth no one needs saving no deaths or births
She Woke Up Dead
She woke up dead, yes dead in her heart She thought they would never ever part The Wicked man of stone ruined her life Why did he ask her to be his wife
People say its lovely, picture postcard looks In reality picture postcards are better off in books I have never liked the white stuff, or slippery ice Something about its dangers tell me its not nice
I have big dark floaters in my eyes interfering with my vision the optician said its old age, from which there's no remission I remember when I was twenty I could see for miles ahead Now these eyes are not like mine, imposter's in my head
Ears It started in June as I got a cold This banging in my ears Sometimes it aggravates so much It has me in floods of tears
I Am Still Here
Hello I am still here
My mother used to visit a medium
A lovely old dear
She would say I have your father
'Whispering in my ear'
She would relay his message
Loud and clear
Granddad had gone