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Elaine Ho Poem
To have the love and sentiment
Of man, a vibrant rose,
Who courts with such a tenderness
While striking such a pose.
His flaming petals, soft and sweet,
That gently brush my lips,
A dashing leaf of lively green
Has slyly swept my hips.
His body tall and stiff with life,
His stalk down through his stem,
The shades of envy darken so,
That he becomes a gem.
His thorns, he wears them strong and proud
Though lethal they appear,
For thorns he bears to shelter me
And rid me any fear.
His velvet quivers in the breeze,
Like dancing sheets on fire,
Caress me love, from head to toe,
And see what may aspire.
For when a rose declares its love
Its pollen it will share,
So soft like dew drops over me,
I am captive in his lair.
Entangled leaf in leaf we are,
My petals soft and pale,
One jagged edge of you I feel
So tender without fail.
You trace my figure soft and slow
For petals, they will break,
But since you hold me warm and safe
They’re only yours to take.
So pick my petals, one by one,
And let them flutter by,
For all this world needs to survive
Are roses, you and I.
Copyright © Elaine Ho | Year Posted 2007
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Elaine Ho Poem
Looking all around me and becoming more aware,
Of the people and surroundings at which many children stare.
I come to terms and realize the acts of hate I see,
And now I fear that this same scene will soon envelope me.
Walking on a lonesome road, though crowded it may seem,
I pass through silent hordes of people hushing silent screams.
Beside me standing hand-in-hand, an older man and wife,
I wonder if they thought like me, what happened to their life.
I reminisce now further back before these broken days,
A time of wasting food and drink and dressing different ways.
But now we all look just alike in tattered grays and browns,
Drifting through these damaged streets and sporting matching frowns.
I thought we'd left the two world wars and poverty behind,
To linger in our broken books and fill an older time.
A time where death would cloud the world with sorrow and disease,
And fear would plant itself within the innocent with ease.
This made me think and look around for Noah and his arc,
And for the first time since the night I heard a flustered lark.
I quickly turned around to spot within a child's hands,
An injured bird whose time had brought it here from other lands.
The child stole a piece of thread from a redbreast robin's nest,
And wrapped around the ailing bird a splint so it could rest.
An hour past the lark took flight and answered to the wild;
The only resting place of hope is in the bright eyes of a child.
Copyright © Elaine Ho | Year Posted 2007
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Elaine Ho Poem
December 14, 2007
To have all sense of everything,
Or have a voice, and yet not sing,
To have good sight, but not to see,
Or have fine taste given to me,
To hear even the slightest sound,
Or feel each curve that makes the ground.
To follow tasty seeming scents,
Or think with reason, common sense.
But have you noticed eagles pass?
Or ever studied blades of grass?
But have you seen the reindeer prance?
Or watched a willow’s woeful dance?
But have you felt the crashing waves?
Or sounded calls in artful caves?
But lend you ear to silent pleas
Or have them die alone in ease.
You may have eyes to see the time,
But not to notice cliffs that climb.
You see the sun go up and down,
But not the air you breathe turn brown.
You may have heard sounds of the street,
But not the rhythm horses beat.
You hear the wind, its mighty scream,
But not the whisper of a stream.
So don’t forget your middle face,
For not a smell means not much taste!
So take a break and smell the air,
For you may find your sense ensnared,
So intimate a scent can be,
For what you find not all may see.
So seek out dew drops on the grass,
For gifts like these are not to last.
The pleasure now of having taste,
Oh beauty of a ribbon laced.
The freshness of a berry picked
Oh luscious fruit, thou can addict.
The might that’s held in grains of sand,
Oh tiny treasures fall from hand.
The grains build mountains overnight,
Oh do you marvel at their height?
And do you know within each bite,
Each one you take, are colors bright.
And lively pleasures soon begun,
Each flavor dances on your tongue,
And have you caught the wind today?
Each breath it sings its pride away.
And can you touch a blazing trail -
Each shooting star, it will prevail.
Copyright © Elaine Ho | Year Posted 2016
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Elaine Ho Poem
I’m watching my surroundings
And I don’t know what to do
The world is coming to an end
And I’m trying to warn you.
I’m writing you a message
Which I hope that you’ll receive
And on this parchment written well
I hope that you’ll perceive
The dangers of experiments,
Of waste and luxury,
This planet just cannot sustain
The lives of you and me.
I tried to send it via air
But the planes just will not fly;
They say the air is far too thin
That carbon is the sky.
So then I tried the mail on land
Encountering a quirk
Disease has stricken everywhere
And no one’s left to work.
Then sea it is, I’ll have it float
Within a bottle green,
But when I walked along the beach
There was no water to be seen.
I took it out and sat to think,
I’ll offer it by hand,
But when I reached to pick it up
It burnt into the sand.
I’d write another warning sign
But no pages in my hand,
I’d tell you using word of mouth –
Would you ever understand?
The air, polluted thick and through,
Disease from you to me,
The water’s gone and fires rage,
How can I make you see?
July 11, 2007
Copyright © Elaine Ho | Year Posted 2016
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Elaine Ho Poem
My love,
It is midnight and I lay alone.
It will be a while before we see each other again,
Or even speak.
I went for a drive tonight, like we often do,
Except this time I was alone.
The tea was bland without you.
I am unfulfilled, restless.
My chest feels tight, but also bottomless;
You give me sorrow and despair.
The colors of the world have faded,
My drive is dull and without life.
When I see a vehicle pass, or turn a corner,
Even if it isn't like yours, but especially when it is,
I get butterflies -
Though I know it isn't you.
Laying here, my skin tingles with yearning,
It craves your touch.
My fingertips are reaching for something that isn't there,
Anything - your hand, back, chest, lips...
Eyes closed, I can see you gazing back at me,
That expression so filled with love and kindness.
I feel your arms around me,
So safe and warm.
Each time my phone dings I wonder if it's you,
I am flustered, my chest thumping hard.
If it's not you,
I'll close my eyes and hear your voice,
So soft above the crackle of fire,
I'll smell your skin, sweet like honey.
My heart swells into my throat,
Pressure rises in my temples.
I find myself fighting back the tears.
It's the thought of you,
The memory, the feeling.
If that was all I had of you,
It would be enough for me to feel loved forever.
I pray for you, and for us.
I am so grateful.
I love you.
Copyright © Elaine Ho | Year Posted 2017
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Elaine Ho Poem
Dolphin.
Nature’s great lie.
Happy smiles I convey,
To cover feelings tucked away.
I am.
Copyright © Elaine Ho | Year Posted 2016
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Elaine Ho Poem
The lake freezes over as the snow falls deeper,
Tiny white stars that drift tenderly from up high.
The heavens steal sacred crystals from their keeper,
Like silver so delicately plucked from the sky.
The horizon disappears in the dark of night,
Sudden lights glow ahead in the white man's village.
Disrupting the serenity and quiet might
Of brother wolves and those of similar image.
The calls of my kin in the distance do stir me,
Eagles beckon and the wake of dogsleds begin.
The drums in the coldness and young children still plea,
In tune with the harmony of the wild wind.
Heart beating to the sound of the wind I stand still,
Beneath this ice is an ecosystem untouched.
The pulse through my feet flow to the beat of the hill,
And this earth in its axis seems trapped, almost clutched.
I turn from the village to meet the horizon,
So slowly it yields to mountains that can't be reached.
Walking the silent air to obtain the bison,
The tall limitless summits will never be breached.
Ice marries the crisp air as night covers the sun,
And so six months of quiet and stillness commence.
Wind blows through the vastness and takes man's shame with it.
Stand still and at peace with this Inuit silence.
Copyright © Elaine Ho | Year Posted 2007
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Elaine Ho Poem
"If only, if only," the woodpeckers sigh,
"The stars in the heavens would light up the sky.
"If I could just bring
the mountains down low,
Those landforms up high,
Where my trees would grow.
"The drums, cease to roll,
The armor, to rust!
Their hatred to flowers,
Their swords into dust.
"If only, if only," the woodpeckers cry,
"Our homes had a place way up in the sky.
"But now that we've gone,
We're extinct, put away,
We all rest in peace,
And now you must pay."
Copyright © Elaine Ho | Year Posted 2007
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Elaine Ho Poem
Thank you dear Lynda McCarthy for your love, understanding, passion and guidance
They are whispering now, yes I hear people talk,
‘Think she’s got mental problems?’ Is all that I’ve got.
You better believe I’m as sane as sane gets,
In an insane world, and one filled with regrets.
Yeah I might be sad, anxious, even paranoid too,
But I’d prefer that over what’s become of you,
For you've made this world such a strange place,
We can no longer take pride, look ourselves in the face.
You’d sell out your soul and to more than one bidder
If it meant that your bank account would become fitter;
The people who built you up to the best you could be,
Are the people you fail to remember, or see;
For it’s all about ‘me’ and ‘look what I’VE done,’
But when you’re standing alone it’s no longer much fun.
You think my life’s easy, I should swallow the pill,
Yes, it could be much worse though it’s still been uphill.
Though it’s easy to spiral we defy gravity,
The only one deciding my fate will be me,
And you better be damned sure I’ll come out on top,
For, with no silver spoon, I don’t know how to flop.
But I do know to fight, and to stand my ground,
Hold firm to my values, not get pushed around.
And when the times get tough I know just what to do,
I rely on myself, my hard work, unlike you.
I don’t ask for handouts, or for others to serve,
I will do it myself and I will do it with verve.
For I know and appreciate the skills I will learn,
It’s all one big classroom – this life we must earn.
And I’m counting my blessings, they’re important to me,
Those precious few souls –friends, mentors, family.
So when the mountains need carrying and the rain it pours,
My resilience muscles flex stronger than yours.
The advantages you flaunted over the years
Will not serve you at all when we get to the tears.
I will move that great mountain, and I’ll carry yours too,
For I have compassion, and now I will teach you.
Copyright © Elaine Ho | Year Posted 2016
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Elaine Ho Poem
June 11, 2016
I sit on the balcony of a research station in Georgian Bay, disconnected from the world.
The vast waters open up before me, with the rocky beach expanding off to each side,
A blue sky ahead dappled with little white tufts, the sun slowly retreating to the west.
I am engulfed by cedars, spruce, birch, aspen...
Surrounded by waxwings, vireos, sparrows, robins, warblers, chickadees…
And though I thought of nothing when I stepped out onto this balcony,
I find myself seeing us – you, me, and humanity – in everything around me.
There is the ever-present thunder of waves pounding the shores.
Deceivingly pristine, looking warm and peaceful on the surface,
But with tumbled rocks – evidence of a tumultuous past – visible just below.
The predictability of the powerful waves is comforting.
It is familiar yet humbling, and exposes our imperfect human traits.
Like a mistake we repeat over and over – ‘history is destined to repeat itself’.
Though initially it seems different each time, the end result is the same: we get drenched.
The songs of the many birds compete for the attention of mates,
Like the voices of seven billion people all trying to be heard in some form or other;
As with the birds, some are heard louder than the rest,
And there are some who will remain forever unheard from where we are standing.
In the trees I watch the leaves flutter – particularly characteristic of the trembling aspen.
I remember how we feel together, running our fingers along our skin so as to barely touch,
As if we would shatter like glass into a thousand pieces.
The wind taunts sea birds seeking to land, and appears to enjoy rustling the trees.
Hundreds of Sandhill cranes take a rest on the alvar from their migration,
They seem to tiptoe unknowingly across this precious landscape of moss microcosms,
Like many who pass their lives not seeing or appreciating the subtleties of human interaction.
The sun paints the horizon – a woman in red and gold waiting to be forever chased.
The Bay is choppy, yet I can see us staring back at me in everything.
The picture of imperfection. A perfect reflection.
Copyright © Elaine Ho | Year Posted 2016
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