Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Some Poems

My moon, my lady, my mystical muse
Your fullness I celebrate each month
Drawing in your energy. basking in your light
Shy you are being for this Full Worm Moon
Coyly shielding yourself in vaporous mist
Clouds come down to the earth 
Lying heavy upon my mountain
I still celebrate you this stubborn March
Though hidden you may be from my eyes
My Spirit still sees you clear

~Ellen Apple 03/04/2015


I am looking for magic my muse
Amid the chaos and grief
After all the gritty real life news
My spirit has need of relief

Calm the turmoil that plagues my mind
And blessed quietude descend
Comfort enfold leave torment behind
Foul attitudes to beauty amend

A fearsome task not for the meek
To alter the course of the day
As respite and renewal I seek
I shall prevail come what may

~Ellen Apple 02/27/2015

Sunday, February 8, 2015


Searching for divine
Among the sublime  
Come to me 
Appearing on a 
Gossamer wind
Here for a moment 
Gone again
Connecting what 
Is meant to be 
A sacred melding 
You and me

~Ellen Apple 02/08/2015

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

A Fearsome Thing

A fearsome thing 
This woman's heart
Deep and full of storms
Fire and ice
Battle strong
Tender in a loving embrace

Her tears burn hot
Her laughter soars
Her silence dooms
Wild and chained 
By life's demands
Surrender never a choice

Defy the norms
Was not her aim
When first her soul
Took flight
Her heart rules each step
Her yearnings know no rest

Cradled in her being
Sheltered from the world
What shapes her life
Not seen or understood
So many expectations
Pummel her daily

~ Ellen Apple 01/27/2015 

Sunday, November 2, 2014

The Sin-Eater

Drink full of life
Gulp and swallow the all
The joy and pain mingle
And lie replete 
Full of hope
Feel the truth 
Rest in the nght
To rise again with 
Vigor comes light
The sin-eater has come
and gone

~Ellen Apple 11-02-2014

Friday, October 17, 2014

The Unanswered Call

The Unanswered Call

A ringing summons
Who misses more
From which side of the chasm
Is the message more
From the sender
The recipient

Abyss in the interim

~Ellen Apple 10-16-2014

Apple (Roger, the calm - the gentle - the artist ) has been feeling under the weather for a few days, and I in my own way have been very concerned. From the time we met his essence was the perfect shape to fit the void in my life, his grounded ways and creative flights of fancy were just what my own oddities needed as a counter balance. We have been pretty much inseparable for over 13 years, and have created a reality for ourselves here on the creek by the river that suits us well. When he is not feeling well, I become very concerned.

I worked last evening, and about half an hour before I was to clock out and come home, I called the house to see if there was anything he needed, some tidbit to tantalize his taste buds, a craving for food or drink that was not on hand here at the house. 

I called, the phone rang ten times and went to voicemail. I hung up, redialled, no answer again. 

When I got home, he was sound asleep, resting well, the cats spread across his body like extra furry little space heaters. The phone was in the floor, I am sure pushed there by Smokie, who has loved the act of clearing tables since she was a wee thing. The back had popped off, and the battery connection jarred loose. Dead phone. That was why he did not answer. 

He was fine, and I was relieved. This small poem was written as I contemplated missed calls.

I hope your day is well. 

Wednesday, October 15, 2014


My first husband, 25 years my senior, would have been 81 today. We divorced in 2001 and he passed away less than 7 months after the divorce was final. He was an alcoholic, and his disease was the end of us. This poem reflects how hard it was for me to leave, how he wanted me to not go through with the divorce, and how rough that particular 18 months was. We were married for 15 years. 

All the days
All the nights
All the sounds
All the sights
All the words
All the ways

You tried to tell me
I should have listened

Try again
Try anew
Try for me
Try for you
Try for us
Try I beg you

I am listening now

~Ellen Apple 10/15/2014

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Tuesday Tidbits

It is a rainy afternoon here on Little Beaver Creek - we have had much rain this month, and the creeks and river are fierce in their fullness. These pictures were taken by Apple on Monday afternoon, while I was at work. The weather yesterday was indeed glorious, beautiful skies and mild temperatures. I knew the weather forecast was for rain today and cooler tomorrow, so I am pleased he got these shots.

It is a read a book, sip a cup of hot coffee, snuggle under a blanket kind of a day.

A young girl who would have turned 11 in December lost her life in an accident on Sunday in our area. A tree, root system made unstable by the recent rains, toppled and crushed her as she was out squirrel hunting with her father. Life is a fragile thing, not promised for any length of time for anyone.  We have to live and appreciate what we have now - it may not be here tomorrow, life may be better it may be worse, it may be altered in our experiences forever with just one act. 

I wrote in a message to someone last night "Don't borrow tomorrow, it will be here soon enough".
We do that, you know, we worry today about the myriad what-if''s of tomorrow. We stress, we panic, we theorize, and our now, our today gets wasted, frittered away. I am not advocating a life of not planning ahead. Dreams are planning ahead, retirement funds are as well, along with home purchases, budgets, all manner of things. Setting goals and working towards their completion, learning new skills, expanding our experiences and communities. These are wonderful, marvelous, fulfilling endeavors. I am speaking (or writing) of being so consumed with the worry of all the negative possibilities that we see littered about in the nebulous future that we are not seeing the "now". Prepare for the worst and hope for the best? Yes. Become obsessed with the worst and getting stuck there? No. 

The time shall soon be here when the trees along the mountaintops have shed all their leaves. When the air is cold and clear, the clouds are heavy and gray, the trees in their bare beauty look like fringe on a rug rippling along the contours of the mountains. I am going to try to remember to take a picture of this gift from the season this coming winter - it is especially striking when there is snow or heavy frost scattered along the hightops.