Coming to you from Little Beaver Creek, deep in the Appalachian Mountains in Southwest Virginia. Not what you may expect for a mountain girl, but I hope you will be pleased.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Proceed Now Most Politely
There comes that instant
(caught unaware more likely)
Perhaps having convinced yourself
Panic was distant
Fear wells up and heart starts pounding
The sheer immensity rather astounding
All of the probables and possibles seem
Grim
And you ask yourself if you can do this
Again
Stuck in a whirlpool of swirling
Conjecture
Can one self-implode from such
Specter
As you have just conjured
Gods how you wish you were
Stronger
Drowning in weights
All in your mind
Yet drifting away on currents
Cosmically designed
Quick grasp a straw
or that piece of jetsam
The remnant of hope
or an old chum
Wait out the wave
Ride on the crest
Somewhere
Some day
There has to be rest
Sleep blessed sleep
(for more than an hour)
Desperately needed
Then in some manner
Still shrouded in mystery
The fear abates
The dark cloud is lifted
Peculiar and odd the human psyche
Crisis averted
Proceed now
Most politely
~ Ellen Apple 05/31/2015
Friday, May 29, 2015
So here I sit on Friday morn
So here I sit on Friday morn
Dreaming of fresh bread -
My version of porn
Going through paces in my head
From sponge to final rise
Pillows on a bed
Fragrant and brown feast for the eyes
Dripping with butter
As sun breaks the skies
The mere thought sends heart aflutter
Freshly baked bread
Reduces me sputter
~ Ellen Apple 05/29/2015
Dreaming of fresh bread -
My version of porn
Going through paces in my head
From sponge to final rise
Pillows on a bed
Fragrant and brown feast for the eyes
Dripping with butter
As sun breaks the skies
The mere thought sends heart aflutter
Freshly baked bread
Reduces me sputter
~ Ellen Apple 05/29/2015
Saturday, May 16, 2015
tanka 05/16/2015
grace defined in play
ballet of form in silence
athletes take the field
thwack of oiled wood on leather
personal quest in public
~Ellen Apple
An Ottava Rima
Across the verdant meadow lies
The gateway to a sacred place
Betwixt the water and ice blue skies
Enfolded in a magical embrace
At journeys end there waits a prize
A solemn blessing - boundless grace
Out of time and worry a day
To visit with the elusive fey
~Ellen Apple 05-16-2015
Sunday, May 10, 2015
The Things We Leave Behind
The Things We Leave Behind
(a prompt poem)
Is it the could
the would
the should
Or the pain
the gain
the strain
Was it the loss
the cross
the dross
Perhaps the grace
the chase
the place
That which we leave
grieve
weave
Defines our existing
persisting
enlisting
~ Ellen Apple 05-10-2015
(a prompt poem)
Is it the could
the would
the should
Or the pain
the gain
the strain
Was it the loss
the cross
the dross
Perhaps the grace
the chase
the place
That which we leave
grieve
weave
Defines our existing
persisting
enlisting
~ Ellen Apple 05-10-2015
Friday, May 8, 2015
the me that others see
the me that others see
both fallow and fertile
drowned in tears
enriched in love
overgrown with worries
harvested by hope
love the gardener
occasionally goes on holiday
and despair visits to pick up
maintenance and harvest
oasis apart from
the daily strife
respite when I
cannot plod on
My Inner Landscape
Defines
and
Defies
the me that others see
~ Ellen Apple 05-08-2015
both fallow and fertile
drowned in tears
enriched in love
overgrown with worries
harvested by hope
love the gardener
occasionally goes on holiday
and despair visits to pick up
maintenance and harvest
oasis apart from
the daily strife
respite when I
cannot plod on
My Inner Landscape
Defines
and
Defies
the me that others see
~ Ellen Apple 05-08-2015
Sunday, May 3, 2015
My Inner Landscape
My Inner Landscape
I close my eyes and I can see
A path from river stone laid
Past fragrant lily of the valley
'Neath a weeping willow for shade
Clover, violet and moss so lush
Varying shades of green
A blossom laden spirea bush
Morning dew adds sparkle and sheen
The sounds of serenity filter in
Birdsong and a dragonfly's whir
Leaves flutter on tip of limb
As a breeze begins to stir
A seat from a tree stump hewn
From which to sit and ponder
While glimpsing in cloud an ancient rune
A delicious way time to squander
Come join me in my inner landscape
A place I have carefully constructed
Where from life's trials we can escape
And dreams are not obstructed
~ Ellen Apple May 3, 2015
Saturday, May 2, 2015
Solace to the Battered Spirit
Solace to the Battered Spirit
Solace to the battered spirit
Found in times of need
Sobs of despair incoherent
The sudden yaw to feed
Respite from the endless tasks
Stretching out for days on end
For both the adherent and the lax
The same results portend
Victory lies not within
He who is last to fall
Nor failure resides wherein
She who forfeited all
The secret lies along the path
That lead from then to when
A precursor and an aftermath
To the sojourners chagrin
~ Ellen Apple May 2, 2015
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