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~


Saturday, December 21, 2013

Calling All Angels

Fireblossom asked us to write about an angel.   She told us not to write about the traditional Christmas angel- mine is kinda winter related, but where I grew up I saw and made many of these even in March and sometimes in April.  New England is famous for an April Fool winter storm.

My second poem is based on some art-I recently made and submitted. I call it mail art.   I thought of the era where letters felt heaven sent, from loved ones during the war.  I remember my husband telling me how much my letters meant to him in boot camp, years ago.   I called my art eXtra Angels.   So, here are two poems.  Thank you to the Postal Service and all of its workers for allowing us to receive many cherished memories-gifts year round!


Arrival flung far n' wide
like white glittered pearls
Moon fish dances in daydream's ripples
once blanket of green held whispers
now blanket
 canvas of white
 angel tells me
go child
spread your wings
like a butterfly
mysteries for poets
who see worlds in aquamarine
memories n' silver rivers
caressed by wind's breath
and imagination's tightrope
it dangles inviting you
each day
©Ellen Wilson


eXtra Angel

Ink memories
waltz in mind's music box
singing yellow canary paints
portrait on each page of
day's walk
near our green umbrella
beloved angel gathering berries
in golden bowl
whispers of our strings
like dappling sunshine on the coldest day
your font, your perfume
three words smudged end
edge's daydream
mind's spiral dance transfixed
portal's page opens
our treasured history
 our gray gardens
 fern near our Tree of Heaven
planting our reunion
I'll wear my brown suit
you'll wear the sky.
©Ellen Wilson

Saturday, December 7, 2013

Artistic Interpretations with Margaret - "The Collector" through the lens of Jennifer MacNeill

Over in the Garden, Margaret shared with us the talented Jennifer MacNeill.   Her Collector's series of photos inspired our poems.  I have written before about the lives of objects.  I love this challenge~
Thank you Margaret and Jennifer!!

Jennifer MacNeill gave us permission to use the images in "The Collector" series for today's challenge.  YOU can see more of her photos at
 her website HERE and flicker page HERE to your poetry post.

She is very talented! 

Buried at Sea

Smitten by thread
My parents played Button, Button
 born in a  basket
near blades of crane 
stories of collared wonder, suits and ball gowns
made my mirrored stars glisten
Crimson lips saved me
stitched to white velvet 
I roamed...
I saw his gorgeous brass eyes
in a sea of indigo wool
my mistress pressed me flat
was he a shank or stud
 buried in his sleeve
dizzy pressed against
 two bright smiles
we fell in love
once closed
now looped
knotted together
dancing, having tea
duty called him 
into battle
my stud lost at sea
I was tucked away
restitched on children's pocket
later tickle pink gown
covered with chocolate 
resorted to a joyful bubble
of bad manners
I miss
mahogany walls, tea with cream
and the scent of him
the sea
my new mistress grew
one day ripping her bodice 
near the shore
I tumbled 
into navy abyss
I blew tiny bubbles
searching for 
my brass stud.

© Ellen Wilson

Monday, December 2, 2013


Yes, true story-the birth of photography involved a group of men who met and broke boundaries in both religion and class.  The met on the first Monday nearest the full moon and called themselves Lunar Men-a group of inventors, scientists, and freethinkers.   In good humor they nicknamed themselves the 'Lunaticks'. One of them was Charles Darwin's grandfather.  Here is my next attempt at a Black n' White poem and a roundel.
   I have struggled lately with my writing.
 I wasn't pleased with the my earlier offerings-so try, try again.


Bewitching box steals sails of shadowed night   
floating imagine of silver wings reveals    
fortune exposed by pale moon light  
bewitching box steals 

Night's album lifts light-does soul squeal? 
Mystic obscura paints in black n' white    
Nuns alert priest to instill prayer wheel     

Priest mumbles Franklin's key n' kite   
will pray for Lunatics' dark ideals   
goes to the heavenly peek show in spite 

bewitching box steals 

© Ellen Wilson

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Lunar Man


Lunar man collects running light
exposed magic torches paper heart with copper flames
shadow grams illuminate silver circus by night
Lunar man collects 

Orange monarch captured by surrendering chains
wrinkle line of day scorched gold into blue line of flight
dark chamber filters optic quicksilver brains

Windows arch visible-pale white knight
riding n' discovering enchanted great plains
gardens of memories paint  peacock of night
Lunar man collects

© Ellen Wilson

Kerry asked us to write a poem in honor of Christina Rossini her birthday is December 5th

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Creating Stillness

Here is my second attempt at trying to write a Tanka, for the weekend challenge.   I applied form this type-five lines with syllables, to evoke a memory.  The first one is all about my time with my grandparents.  Once a week, I was invited to have tea with them-a special time for me.   Their view was aligned by the sea, roses and their bird feeders.  Red Rose tea was served daily, but at our tea party a loose blend was steeped and served with special homemade cookies or muffins.

Steeped sea green pearls
warmth overcomes salty mood
swirling thoughts linger
portal of calm opens heart
fragile red rose hips remind me

© Ellen Wilson

 Yellow hearts climb high
their tiny arms fragment their dreams
hope planted in sepia
reaching kite blue tail's cast off string
embracing wings for last dance

© Ellen Wilson

 Hello Ruby flower
your exotic petals float
 Sun is joining us
dear sit near Peter by sky blue glories
your tea has sunflower's smile.

© Ellen Wilson

Monday, November 11, 2013

ART Challenge: Featuring Mike Worrall

For our Sunday challenge, Grace shared with us the talented surreal painter Mike Worrall!

"The enigmatic, dreamlike paintings of Mike Worrall are often inspired by historical themes.  Informed by his work in film, Worrall deals with the sublime in his hyperreal depictions of the mysterious.  As in a dream, the quiet fa├žade and the beauty of the large scale oil paintings masks the intriguing content and enormous energy underpinning the works."

Thank you Grace!  Mike's art is wonderful~

For a complete view of his work, please visit here.
Poets Corner, oil on linen, 122x155cm, 2002

The Musical called Day 

My petals unfold as
Soleil twirls her skirt
bleeding light onto
green starred pasture
Honey bees hum as my
poem blooms

playing four notes
north, south, east and west
pointing my fate
towards night's garden
soon wormy darkness creeps
into our evergreen sea
 my blush petals deepen into maroon
 I surrender my neck my bridge
into heaven's blue crystallized soil
strum my fate
feathering fingers with
Brahm's lullaby
tomorrow I will play a hurricane
casting away the Iceberg Roses
their blood chills us all. 

© Ellen Wilson

Geometry of Costume, oil on canvas, 122x182cm, 2002


Geometry plays tricks
daughter dear-faded pearls n' dust
decorate family tree
dewy peach skin 
outlined charcoal doe eyes
grace blushed apple smile
dimpled thoughts wink
doorway of souls
float in bleached white memories
silver feathers glide
appearing in  hands, in smile
elfin manner transformed
every quarter hour
face chimes
You Westminster and I
  archived map lives on
in golden floral notes
n' sands of time
 Daughter your Quadrilateral
I'm sorry
your father is famous
Yes, you know him
Time Square.

© Ellen Wilson
Thank you Mike!   Great challenge Grace~