happy thanksgiving!

**

May you need

All of your fingers

And all of your toes

And still, not have enough

To count all of your blessings.

May they be more numerous by far

Than all of the stars

In all of the sky

For all of time…

Happy thanksgiving!

suzanne ❤️

November 28, 2019

and the wind came…

**

Nearly a whole moon ago

I lazed beneath a crystal blue

And above a glittering shimmering

One reflected in the other

As it came to be the same with me

Memory waltzed with thought

In a seamless dance of spirit

Three quarter time

In tune with the breeze

And with me

Once

Twice

And three times again

A butterfly

Appeared to the right of me

A monarch surprise

Wherever he came from

I know not

Which doesn’t matter much anyway

It is only special

That he found me

At the heart of a special day

Once

Twice

And three times again

I was mesmerized 

So out of place he was

Suspended between blue and blue

With no field and no flowers

Anywhere in sight

Leading me gently to ask why

Once

And twice

And three times again

As the wheel of life does turn 

Upon itself

So did he

To me

His wings sang of sunset

A feast of a thousand peaches

Ripened in an evening sky

He did not float in still air

Nor, did he fly strong and purposely

He was a winged mystery 

Powerless

In the face of the invisible 

Not fighting against the unseen

Instead, he let himself just be

And the wind came

And carried him 

To all the places 

He could never have imagined 

For himself.

Then, ever so gracefully,

Once

Twice 

And three times again

He fluttered near

And carried me there too…

****

ellie894 November 4, 2019

there was a butterfly that day, a stunning peachy tangerine one. Out of place. Three times he came to me from nowhere, over the water, under the sky and out of the breeze.

can a sweater be like a tango…

I want to begin with a where,

And a why,

And a sort of a how.

I want to tell you that the light is soft,

Whether it is the flicker of a candle or the glow of a lamp.

I want to tell you of the music,

As a piano dances, a violin takes to the sky and lyrics sink into the depths of me.

I want to tell you of my sweater,

The long gray one that falls to the backs of my calves, 

that sways with my every move, 

much like a tango, 

only with a more subtle flair.

Can a sweater even be like a tango…  

I wrote that over and again last night,

And deleted it each time.  

Yet, here I am writing it once more. 

Perhaps it wants to be written, and wants to be told. 

There are other thoughts too, 

Moments of nothing but cloudy mist,

Afternoons weary from searching 

The edges of dawn blushing at the very thought of what may be,

And, the way I love coffee with cream

In a small cup 

First thing.

And later in the day, tea

Also in a small cup

Sweetened with a touch of cane sugar

And stirred rhythmically 

With my favorite spoon.

Do you know why I love a small cup?

Because, I sip more than I drink,

I savor more than I gulp.

I like my brew hot…

Too big of a cup, and it goes…

…cold

It’s not meant to be cold,

It’s meant to be…

….hot,

…and steamy and bold.

So that the cup may warm my hands,

As the brew warms my soul…

That’s the way it’s meant to be,

Warming,

As the sun upon my face

As the love within my heart,

My hands hold gently

My lips kiss the edges

And I am embraced by the heat

So very completely…

That’s the way it’s meant to be

Hot…

****

ellie894 November 14, 2019