Playing with Poetry from 2009

This is a revision of a piece I wrote and posted on here back in 2009. I may revise it further, but here's what I've done with it this evening. Enjoy!


We are...the fruit of his lips
He, the root of our tree,
the legs to our hips.

We are...his ripened harvest,
the velvet liquid,
pouring from his bottle,
sloshing in the glass.

He is...
He...
is...


We are...the cotton of his candy,
the lolly of his pop.
We are, the chocolate chip
in his cookie dough.

He is the oven.
We are the bread.

We are the oven.
He is the bread.

Ri...
Rise...
RISE!

You are...the raindrops on my window,
crashing gently,
trickling with violence,
demanding to come in.

Ra-tap, ta-tat tat....tappa tap tip!
Ba-dip ba dip ba dip...
da rop...drop...
Drip!

An Ode to the One Who Fixes Things

Reading the book of Luke this morning, I was inspired afresh by what a healer Jesus was (and is), and how incredible it is that he actually seeks to fix broken parts of people's lives. Amazing. This is my response in poem. I hope you enjoy it.

An Ode to the One Who Fixes Things
by David Ello

Glue it back together,
fractured leg of figurine,
set it oh so gently,
and watch it stand anew.

Hold this broken necklace,
the clasp no longer closing,
this show of severed silver,
unite around my neck.

Torch this dying fire,
paltry pyre of soot and sticks,
douse it with your oil and flame,
and we shall dance in reds and yellows.

Winter Morning....A New Poem for the First Big Snow of the Season

Winter Morning
by David Ello

Winter's magic, some call tragic,
caught my breath this morning.

Sugar-crested, trees stand rested
underneath their blankets white.

Speckled, golden leaves lay hanging,
candied jewels in sweet suspension.

Were my eyes to write their sight,
days like this they'd more than mention.

But what my vision can't describe,
my heart instead will self-inscribe.

Winter wondered while I slumbered...
Woke me up this morning.