The Babbling Brook
clearest water flows gently
along and over my naked feet
the touch of its almost tacit sound
deafening beauty for a calming mind
thousands of tiny goosebumps
showing the numerous surprising shivers
trying to make sense
the softest sofa of fresh leaves and little twigs
spread a narcotic palette of autumn perfumes
coloring the signals of my soul
a generous friendly fire of chestnuts and acorns
compose a beat and feel of rhythm of the forests
tapping on my shoulder and head
changing every breath that I take
while softly knocking
at future's door
©Ellie Daphne van Stralen 2012
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Autumn leaves
november gale force
cold air all over the place
naked trees message
paths in front of me
tapestries of whirling leaves
carpets of small twigs
everything blown off
premature delivering
that wintery blues
©Ellie Daphne van Stralen 2012
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Snow-heat
my heart sets on fire
first snow-crystal on my skin
a heartfelt meltdown
©Ellie Daphne van Stralen 11/24/2012
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Inner delight
thoughts leaving harbors
warmest memories descend
slow waving pictures
recognizing soul
recovering saddest heart
mending inner light
©Ellie Daphne van Stralen 2012
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Intuition
listen
or be deaf for
the sound inside
you'll hear the message loud
you'll see everything
you need
warning
or a clear sign
intimate deep
surprisingly well known
a little light shines on you
inside
©Ellie Daphne van Stralen 2012
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Take a break..................
sharing a moment
the serenity of space
the light of a flame
©Ellie Daphne van Stralen 2012
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Richness of the spirit
the emptiness of the silence
the limitation the space
the infinity of the dark
the length of the awaiting
the helplessness of paralysis
hooked in herself
seated on her chair
wandering
where this will end
the continuing of the times
that will be changing
she shares
her essentials
coming out her of nutshell
her eyes show off
her words depict
her warmth conquers
who tells more
who knows more
who shares more
who is more herself
©Ellie Daphne van Stralen 2012
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Hooked
the emptiness of the silence
the limitation the space
the infinity of the dark
the length of the awaiting
the helplessness of paralysis
hooked in herself
seated on her chair
wandering
where this will end
the continuing of the times
that will be changing
she shares
her essentials
coming out her of nutshell
her eyes show off
her words depict
her warmth conquers
who tells more
who knows more
who shares more
who is more herself
©Ellie Daphne van Stralen 2012
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just A Moment
at the busy crossroad
the traffic jam
is complete
all roads crowded
all kinds of vehicles
have to stop
while their futile waiting time
disappears in stress
a cacophony of people
just talking about
them selves
complaining
about their situation
overpowering the impatient honking
of other drivers
still in their cars
in the queue
what should I do
secure the door
wait and watch the scenery
from my point of view
the intimacy
of the space
I feel is my own
or
open the window
and become a part
of the cram
hearing different sounds
creating
another way
homeward bound
©Ellie Daphne van Stralen 2012
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Without Notice
silence between friends
most heartfelt conversation
and softly killing
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Winged
a butterfly
landed
on the lawn
in front of me
fluttering poorly
several times
folding
most beautiful wings
reached out
with my hand
so he or she
could land
felt
that softest touch
saw
as nearby
as never before
that butterfly
showing
those magnificent wings
a few times more
until
folded together
for the last time
feeling speechless
impressed
blessed
with the gift
of sharing those last moments
of a butterfly
now flying
on eternal wings
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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The great rickshaw rider
he carries his newborn child
passengers on the backseat
a widower just cycles
no choice but his bike
father and rickshaw rider
sad thoughts of his dead wife
lovingly holding his child
he rides with his fate
a girl feels her fathers love
happy passengers arrived
a widower and newborn
on their bike for life
@ Ellie Daphne van Stralen
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Valleys in the mist
the early landscape showing
lowest fluffy clouds reside
suspended between mountains
hiding lower grounds
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Silence
not a sound around
a huge content of silence
for real listeners
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Poetic Symphony
the caressing sound
of my silver fountain pen
draws moving pictures
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Aunty Anna's Orchard
it was the largest house
next to it an orchard
full of apple and plum trees
and one lonesome old pear tree
in the corner of the backyard
this was
where she spent several summers
most of her time
leaning against
the gnarled trunk
she could dream
she could hide
she could feel free
for a few minutes
or all day
she could watch
the growth of the leaves
creating a green roof
it was a shelter
if some rain fell
the glorious pear blossoms
and it's private perfume
filled her room
for a while
the blossom leaves disappear
with the wind
more than a few
stayed behind
for coloring a carpet
on the floor
sometimes
nothing happened
nothing changed
all though she was not being patient
about the growth of the pears
out of reach
high in her old tree
still standing on her toes
she needed to be tall
she stretched every day
and grew too
at last
picking that first pear
enjoying that view above
showing she would reap
very soon
so much more
she just had to wait
for the pears to fall
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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The old man and his stone
an old man
seated alone
on his stone bench
invited me
almost invisible
gesticulating with his hand
sit down beside me
we did not say a word
together we just heard
nothing but our silence
he invited me
to take a look in his garden
he took me by my hand
guiding me
through the open gate
he gave me a grand tour
in his Japanese paradise
and wanted to know
if I would be able
to show him
that spot
he was searching for
all his life
so he could also see
all the larger stones
at once
I'll wait
and watch you
I stood
I sat down
I climbed a tree
while being up there
I could see
a smile on his face
expressing understanding grace
I walked around
accompanied
by the sound
of crackling shelves
I can count endlessly
maybe even further
In that serene garden
I could not find the spot
that place where I could see
all his stones
although I learned
during that search
there were fifteen different larger stones
that unknown space
where I see and count
the old man's 15th stone
there I was on my own
still searching
it was late
at last I returned
sat down beside the old man
on the other stone bench
he offered me his silence
and told me with his eyes
that a man or a woman
is wise
when admitting
accepting
a simple fact
you can see
you can count
all the stones
not at once
not on your own
©Ellie Daphne van Stralen 2012
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Depression
sealed so deep inside
buried in an wretched soul
huge fields of friction
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Bemused
invoking the dune
into a chair
I feel seated
like a queen
in a majestic scene
for free
in front of me
the sun seems so near
while I cover my feet
with warmly sand
the sea is singing
a love song
and the sky
is tuning in
as colorful
as bright
as light
as possibly can be
this landscape
prods my mind
aggregates
my thoughts
into a memory
I wish to be reality
just now
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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Musical Feet
My shuffling feet, shuffle forward,
Tapping out a rhythm of a beat.
Taking time to get it right.
Hand tapping thigh,
The pace not a race.
Body vibrates, booming Bass,
Hairs prickle the neck,
Touches roots of the soul.
© 2012
poem by Nick Strong
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Autumn gold
on tv - the weather - guy
predicted enthusiastically
a lot of sun and a blue sky
beautiful warm late summer days
during the upcoming autumn break
he did not know
for sure
he did not lie
probably
the ticking on the window
sings a different song
the clouds are sharing
nothing but rain
I have to go out
before the rain stops
into that wet world
into the cold
would it help
if I remembered
would it be different
if I could touch
the autumnleaves
made of sunny gold
poem by Ellie Daphne van Stralen
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