THANKSGIVING COUNTDOWN

Posted on November 21, 2017 by elainedanforth

Thanksgiving countdown.
Not like Christmas.
No official advent,
nor connecting isthmus
between our ordinary time
and the holiday with gatherings
to celebrate whatever blessings
on us shine.

But, would there, could there
be a way
that we could find
to make us ready
for that day,
beyond the decorations,
shopping, cooking,
and preparatory trepidations
about the ones we know we’ll see? . . .

Could we craft
a job or plea
to grow fresh hope
to open up
a brand new road
in our own
and family history?

Posted in Holidays, Medium Length Poems, Poetry | Leave a comment

TO SEE THE BLESSINGS IN THE GRAY

Posted on November 21, 2017 by elainedanforth

Yes, gray.

But still,
it’s day.

Perhaps
you don’t spot
sun or blue,

but nonetheless,
its brilliant light
through cool, thick clouds
shines somehow through,

to fill a well
of warmth and vibrancy
that lets you move. . .

remember, now,
to notice that. . .

the more you do,
the more you find,
the more you to the light
become less blind. . .

and that will bring
in snowballs of progressive flowerings
a plenty of the blessings
quite rightfully assigned to you.

Posted in Autumn, Medium Length Poems, Poetry, Seasons, Winter | Leave a comment

DAYTIME IN A WINK (OR BLINK)

Posted on November 17, 2017 by elainedanforth

Daytime.
Quick winter sun climb.
Quick night fall.

If we’re to seize the day
at all,
we must embrace,
and maybe kiss it–

attend to it as a small babe
that needs our love. . .

for yea, indeed,
if weary, we too oft do blink,
we just might miss it.

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HERE COMES THE RAIN, SO DANCE AND SING

Posted on November 16, 2017 by elainedanforth

Here comes the rain again.

Therefore, get out,
stand forth,

And, like Gene Kelly, dance and sing,

and spread your laughter and your joyful smiles
for miles,
to sweep round east and west and south and north,

the marks of this
way too long
and quite short year,
bit by bit
humbly to begin to mend,
before its quick approaching end,

so we may make,
(or at least see)
a fresher, stronger,
and more loving start,
be ushered in.

Posted in Autumn, Medium Length Poems, Poetry, Seasons, Uncategorized, Winter | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

APPARITIONS

Posted on November 16, 2017 by elainedanforth

The year turns dark
and you turn blue,
feel cold and down–

sometimes it helps
when there appears a clown
or two.

But,
once you’ve received those sent-in clowns,
and find
the smiles and satisfaction
that you hoped to find
did not quite
warm you wholly through–

so you live still
a little bit in hell–

Then,
breathe and be
just where and how
and who you are,
and make
a little wish upon a star,
and if you’ve got one, ring also
a little bell. . .

For, who can tell?
The angels may come flocking
to your call,
and they could maybe have the wherewithal,
in cases where the clowns
all by themselves
won’t do.

Posted in Autumn, Be, Medium Length Poems, Poetry, Seasons, Winter | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

PLAY THAT NEXT CARD!

Posted on November 14, 2017 by elainedanforth

Flip
that next card.

Now!
Today!
you shall play it!–

you need not
say a word. . .

For its
distinct face
leaves an inimitable, indelible trace
of all that you meant–

even if
it arrives there not inked
with so much as a dot,
and neither
in sync
with one faint phoneme heard.

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SATURDAY– RECHARGE!

Posted on November 11, 2017 by elainedanforth

Saturday.
Recharge.

Watch out today!–

For,
freed up spirits
roam the low and high ways
the plains, the valleys,
towns and cities,
thoroughfares and by ways,

brightened up
to call
the workaday gray world’s bluff
and claim for love (and maybe also fame)
a slew of dear ones
plus many sundry other friends in trust,

all come together,
some sallied forth,
sojourning on a gentle, soft long tether
that guides them back,

whether thither
they have wandered many leagues or miles
west or east or south or north,

whene’er, of steps they’ve taken,
they’ve lost track,

to lead them back
to work and sing and play
and dance
in ecstatic, joyful concert
with the whole,
assembled legions
who form their planetary
full and human natural
consort.

Posted in Days of the Week, Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

BE CURIOUS

Posted on November 11, 2017 by elainedanforth

Come on. . .
life is very, very
curious.

Be curious about it.

Your deepest thoughtful inquiry
can in no way be spurious. . .
nor, if brought with
your heart most sincere,
will it prove to be injurious. . .

Life is deep
and broad
and tall
and long,
and filled plum full
with love and light–
it’s infinitely kind
and strong,

So ask questions
on your quest,
put yourself and life
to each good test. . .

And open up your mind
and heart,
and do your best to keep that up,
and with patience,
abide the time
before you know
let merely asking for a while
be quite enough. . .

Even while it
tends to scare you, make you sad,
or get your deepest dander up. . .

Just let that be
and wait and see,
although it can be really rough. . .

And answers, in good time,
will surely come,
to open ears and eyes
and hearts sincere and serious,

just as dancers enter oft,
in proper space,
with grace sublime
lithe weight aloft
oblivious to gravity,
in manner quite mysterious.

Posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

WHEN YOU’RE SURE YOU CAN’T

Posted on November 2, 2017 by elainedanforth

When you’re sure
it’s really you
who can’t,
your wherewithal is poor,
the sense of it
makes you so blue
you cannot even rant
or throw a tant
rum one down,
nor none such stuff,
those damned thoughts, emotions
so to blunt,
not sure
your soul
is really there
to call your own. . .

Right then,
it very likely could be you
who, back at you,
would be the one
to cast first stone. . .

Things look thorny–
maybe black–
but ’round the corner
or next morning,
you may well remember that
somehow you’ve slid
some hope stuffed
somewhere inside your body hid,
else,
far up your sleeve,

or maybe tucked
just in your cuff. . .

So, perhaps it pays
to stay a little still
around,
and keep the internal jury out
as to the question
of whether you’ve yet had enough. . .

Because the consequences
get more dire,
when you go
with a corner of you
lain in wait,
expecting
God or man
would rise
to call your bluff.

Posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

SO ODD. . . I DECIDE TO TALK TO GOD

Posted on October 31, 2017 by elainedanforth

So odd.
Now, I decide
to talk to God.
In a way
I’ve never tried.

I grow, I feel good inside. . .

Sort of like
the way it was
in days they were,
just talking to
the best of Mom,
or maybe else, the best of Dad,

imbues me with
a depth of strength and calm
I’ve never really ever had.

Makes me know
I need not always lie so low,
and will one day
not feel so sad.
Makes me and others
very glad.

The benefit
if not the act,
of talking to this thing
called God
will be of truly perfect fit
and absolutely
iron clad.

Posted in Medium Length Poems, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment