Thursday, September 17, 2015

Hope is a Ferris Wheel

Today I am doing a poetry prompt over in the Imaginary Garden inspired by a book-Hope is a Ferris Wheel.   The challenge is to take a well known poet to the fair/carnival.  

Deep fried perfume
as faded tattoos and toothless grins
speak of cheap thrills
Step right up to ride a rusty bolted yellow wheel
Emily named it- the sun's eye

Maybe she is the Queen of Cups
 "THE BRAIN is wider than the sky"
she tells me. 

We climb to hope's feathers
in a red cart, tumbling to and fro
like a basket of gingerbread.

A blurred blue sky is ours
on top of the world- we kiss  Cotton
candy clouds and  watch tiny tea cups
twirl n' spin like jewelry box
ballerinas.  And laugh
"Tea for Tutu"

I had company and wanted to write my poem sooner.  I hope to pen one about Poe. My poem is about    Emily Dickinson on the Ferris Wheel. 


Friday, February 6, 2015

Poetic Eye in the Garden

Over in the Imaginary Garden -I wasn't happy with my first poetic attempt, so try, try again.   I decided to write about my nightly walks.  Inspiration can dazzle me, like the stars.  And I am racing home as words spill from my mind and circle me like sheep, before the fence of dreamland arrives.


Tug of Words

Moon smiles
under stars' umbrella
Lifeguard perched in 
blackberry sea
 scent of salty brine 
n' pine pitch
perfume night's whispers. 

I trample along my
when brain splits
 dandelion wishes
falling arcs of 
in sonorous tones
n' drift
drumming my mind.

Moonlight's color
 now Ivory tusk
taunts my
  geography's mood
shadowed mountains outline sea
like Lemon Meringue 
I see sweetness
some bitter notes
under her
flashlight mood.

Waves of white 
cloud blush
wash ashore
as ocean's salt n' moon
play tug of war
within my veins.

I travel onward
dandelion's wishes
and daffodilly dreams
twilight's smirk
my third 
eye wakes. 

©Ella Wilson 

Saturday, May 17, 2014

Black Forest

Over in the Imaginary Garden, Hannah shared with us photos of Germany.  The Black Forest intrigued me. I haven't written for weeks.  I have been hiding in an indoor forest trying to stay cool and calm.  My meds were messed up and it has been a roller coaster ride.  I feel better-I miss blogging and you!

The World Tree

  Moss's green stars outline
  pine needle floor
dampness curls ideas
like leaves brittle yet fragile
I weed  my path
waiting for day's star to
 burn gold and spill
her treasured light
along my trodden path.

Skin prickles as wolf  sings his serenade
to his beloved Blood Orange moon
 wind drums a wild dance 
illuminating labyrinth's silver birches
tall pines sway
in the darkest recesses secrets
howling, hooting and breathe
fear into my pores

Black hole wisdom hovers
-a hooded cloak of raven feathers
hides her craggy eyes
her dress made of  Walking Sticks
and spider's webs
her thoughts fly towards me
in catalyst dreams
waking mysteries of the moon.
She tells me "answers are ripples
in the universe's blanket
go to Great Oak
Wren is my totem."

"Hold what is sacred until stellar
dust burns,
follow tree's wheel
it spins stories of Holy Grail.
Your map is primal law-
magic whispers in shadows
as you wait for day's eye to open
Green woman will guide you-if
you dare listen."

©Ellen Wilson 

Friday, March 14, 2014

The Blind Poet

Brian @dVerse invited us to write highlighting sound. Brian encouraged us close our eyes and imagine you are blind. Yes, see with sound-it was extremely difficult.   I wrote several poems, but they didn't work, until I wrote about my morning.   Thanks Brian-it was fun to attempt visuals with sound~

My day is poured
it jingles n' rattles me
I stir it clanging my memory-
it tickles
 citrus and smoke linger
perfuming the air
 a wet nose nudges me
whining, whimpering
whistling steam blows
daughter clicks it off
she laughs mumbling convo
with boyfriend
stomps away- her bare bones
 pound floor
portal opens as wind howls
everything shakes as
day drips and puddles.

Spinning thoughts enter 
dryer buzzes
whining outside now
cold air stings and stabs my
measured steps click and clack around me
gasping air, pounding heart, insides churn 
as bile rises-burns face
mind swimming
I'm locked out
pounded with wetness
singed with oh no, what if
trampled n' chilled
I pound,  rattle, 
 twist n' turn
bare bones arrive
muffled voices come, too.
"Mom, what the heck?"
sharp pain rings as
 coldness drips
my thoughts paddle forward
warm lavender softness wraps
around me
hound howls
as I row onward into my day. 

Friday, January 31, 2014

Form For All

Samuel Peralta, over at dVerse inspired us to write a prose type poem. 

"A prose poem is a piece that appears to be prose – with no line breaks or verses – but which reads as if it were poetry. Prose poetry pieces maintain poetic qualities and utilize poetic techniques – such as symbolism, imagery, alliteration, rhyme.
A prose poem may be anywhere from a few lines, to the length of – I now believe – a book."

Sam is leaving dVerse and must know his presences will be missed!   Thank you Sam for all the wonder you have shared~ 

    I left my white flowing gown by the sea-so I thought. I woke discovering it draped on my lawn-white and glistening like jewels.  It had followed me.  Pristine, fragile white wings clustered in the morning's chill huddled upon earth's brown velvet shoulders.  I tried offering Bergamot tea and a bouquet of Tiger lilies, but no luck.  They are sleeping like beauties, but for how long?!  The whir of their cousins offers one hope, but will their tweets wake them?  The sky is heavy like dove gray ink. I fear the clouds are still miffed at me for being careless with their fabric. I hope they will forgive me-I  meant no disrespect. I am craving Venetian's embrace-her gold fingers must wake these wings soon or the ground hog will be confused and we all know what that means-April will start to gamble with our muse, again.   


Saturday, January 11, 2014


Over in the Garden, Margaret challenged us with Orbs. Deborah Glessner is the artist- her photographic orbs are filled with wonder! You can see more of Deborah's work at her website, "Lark Photography". Thank you Margaret for sharing her visions with us! I am intrigued~
Charcoal gray flutters of night disappear golden flower opens wild wings peer ring of feathers swirl chasing day's kite strings in search of burgeoning blue Golden goose goodnight kiss before sister swan opens star umbrella covers Lunar's crown
Heaven's wedding ring circles Earth's trees spatial stories speak volumes of hidden affairs ripples in their union passionate PDA seen in fire n' ice Pine, Big Red and Oak surrender to Mother Nature's epic moods Bough brothers bend in Warrior pose towards her hair saluting her spirit Namaste

Monday, December 23, 2013



Bay is Fickle

Fickle coastal Bay
 weather always teases moods
whips her gray skirt wide
Foghorn boy's loudly cheer- her slip
a Periwinkle vision

 ©Ellen Wilson


Cheering Up The Sea

 Winter's pale moon light
caresses immensely sad sea
icy threads dance aloof
look for cure as beauty collides
silver feathers paint smiles

©Ellen Wilson



Spring's difficult birth
bursts through frigid winter's snow
song of spring a caw
plumed in feathered purple
yellow beak sings an opera

 ©Ellen Wilson


Heart's Glow

 Underneath the bright stars
a tall ship sails into the cove
radiant light flames
burgeoning eyes open
heart melts and burns like pink wax

©Ellen Wilson



Magic mountain view
Umbrella snow mist blankets blue
clouds spore mushroom cap
day stars dazzle curiouser
artists always mining gems 

©Ellen Wilson

Over in the Garden we had a challenge to write a Tanka.  I struggled with mine and hope to try again!
Happy Holidays to you n' yours~