long lost sun

Just when I was going to begin building an ark, the rain stopped and the sun began to shine. The words flutter and clutter so here am I to set them free. If I simply write without erase, will I return at another time and see mistakes. Things so out of place. Will I sigh and begin to fix them. Line breaks, misspellings and too many commas,,, or not nearly enough. But I am inclined to say there are far fewer things in this world that need fixing and far more that simply need to be loved.

So I will let them shine like the long lost sun. And instead I will marvel at the empire that rests atop the world, carry seed to a place where there isn’t any, shudder at the slither through the tall grass that reminds me why I wear boots… take cautious steps so as not to land on the baby hop toad, and listen….to the whisper of a wing upon the wind…


ellie894 May 27,2021


Already, it is warmer

than yesterday

and I hear the train

beyond the hummingbird

and well passed the hush

of windless leaves.

Clouds came early

and faded the rainbow

slipping through

the locked tight door.

They are gone

as the train is also

and the rainbow vanished

on this now

cloudless day.

Perfect tiny triangles

flutter at my feet

forward but not fast,

they call to me,

as slowly as the tree grows,

they say

or you shall miss it.

Miss what…

You’ll know it

when you move

as though time

stands still,

and It

lands upon

your open heart….


ellie894 May 7, 2021

the meeting….

It seems to me

that time is always racing

east to west.

It feels to me

that wind is always hurtling

west to east


I think

I’ve found the place

where they meet….


ellie894 April 19, 2021


There are field butterflies

and mailbox butterflies.

There are those who dance

in the faery wood.

And those that laze the day

away, near the water’s edge.

There is even

a grand yellow swallowtail

who dwells in the shade

of the wizened old oak tree.

So that,

with every step I take

I am in the home

of one or another.

As surely as if

I had knocked upon a door

and had it thrown open to me

in a whispered cry of



ellie894 April 18, 2021

one step more….

Beyond the bend

Chirrup and cheep

Rustle and scritch

For each of these

and for books

My father read to me

I have a photograph

So, I know it’s so

My mother sat beside me

To the right

Let me do the reading

He cheered me

Beyond the teacher’s

“Slow down”,

mild admonishment

respectfully ignored

She kept me

In books,

picture and otherwise

Wrapped with a bow

Or beneath my pillow

It is her own hand lettering

That graces the inside covers

Name and date

Before I could do it for myself

Scratch and tussle

Flutter and fly

…always one page more…


ellie894 April 15, 2021


I stepped into the night

The porch was wet from rain

The clouds hung heavy overhead

There was nothing much to see

Nowhere else to be

Jack to my left

Dobby to my right

I breathed a sigh

As high above me

A twinkle caught my eye

It was a mighty firefly!

First here

And then there

Among the trees

He flickered as he flew

I’ve thought of him all this day

How in the deepest starless sky

He lights the emptiness

With himself

And when your own day comes

The one as dark as any night

Know within your heart

You have the gift of light


ellie894 April 14, 2021

I love the way…

I love to find an avocado halved,

a ring within a ring.

I love the mysterious grace

the centered brown and

swirling green may bring.

I love the way the flower bends

to feed the butterfly,

as her shadow waits

so patiently nearby.

I love to listen

to the sparkle and the speak

of the unsung stars

singing close among us

in the wildness of the cosmic why.

I love to see Iris’s petals

poised in humble prayer,

softly scented, waiting

for her heart’s unfolding


always care..

I love the ferns a-waving

to the dawning light

alongside the creek

who keeps on a-flowing

Lapping at the misty moments

until they’re out of sight…


ellie894 April 12, 2021

does the sun smile…

thistle loving sunrise

From so far away

I see a softened leaning

A thistle out of place

is coming close

to unfolding.

It has chosen

a perfect spot

to watch the sunrise.

How many sunrises

will it see

before it is transformed

once more.

And will it love

each one of them

in turn.


the grace

in brevity.

Or is it really

the sunrise

that anxiously awaits

..the thistle…

Does the sun smile

upon each nodding notion,

even unto the sleeping breath

that awakens…

becoming me and you….


ellie894 April 5, 2021