10.26.20 A Halloween Wish

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Once upon the mid of Autumn

when the leaves are crisp and bright

step by stomp and twirl by creeping

screams and giggles filled the night

And the streets were filled with wonder

creatures from each walk of life …

some enchanting, some were haunting,

some brought laughter, others strife

Whether fair and dainty maiden

or a bold and ghastly ghost

when feathered, furred, or filled with scales

each deserves what they wish most

When the stars begin their winking

and the wind unfurls its breeze

moonbeams with their shadows dancing

sway and hush among the trees

This is the extent of magic

wrapped in spirits present, past

and the hope of all the dreamers

is that time will not move fast

Let this night be one of many

where pretend can dwell and play

make-believe and just imagine

are invited here to stay

Once upon the mid of Autumn

when the leaves are crisp and bright

let them stay like this forever

believing with their hearts, not sight

10/18/20 Mother Nature’s Curtain Call

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Fall is Mother Nature’s curtain call
As Summer is a vibrant imprint of Spring’s entrance
Fall is Summer’s hushed echo
a crescendo of excess color
an overspill of emotion
a symphony of beauty so strong
it is almost painful to look at
Twirling in muted tones …
in the bittersweetness only an exit knows,
Fall arrives only as an in-between can –
as swift as a skipped heartbeat
as sweet as an almost-kiss
Blushing in tides of burnt persimmon, sugared cranberries, and dusted cinnamon her performance rises on winds of change
and promises an audience stunned to silence
at the stillness of coming Winter
Enamel glazed branches will applaud her long after the white curtain has fallen 

Pressed leaves in thick books will recall her essence
And the memory of her spirit will rest within the golden stars
just waiting to be wished on when warm nights with cool breezes return With a last turn,
with a final bow,
she leaves just as lovely as she came
Elegant and endless in the land of in-between 

10.8.20 Somedays: A Tribute to Those Living with Chronic Illness

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Somedays

Somedays are dangerous things they tease and taunt
and ease and haunt
the imperfections of our current state of being

of wanting
of waiting
And on days like that …
the Somedays
when the magic of stardust and wishes call
when the perfection of heaven echoes in the loves we lost
when the sea and the sky brim at a capacity greater than any earthly ambition my heart aches with a craving I can’t satisfy
at the freedom I see
but don’t have
at the wonders of when
but not yet
at the whims I imagine
but can’t
make
real
Some days,
when Someday comes
my skin feels too tight
and my tears fall just right
and living
is heavier
than it seems it should have the right to ever be
because beauty is in the eye of the beheld
and I wish to be held
by something lighter
than gravity
Someday

9.27.20 Fall is Made for Reinvention

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“Sometimes I like to pretend that I have lived a thousand lives before this one. I imagine I’ve seen a million color-stained sunsets and traveled the expanse of the globe several times. I dream that there isn’t a wish I haven’t chased, or a pursuit I haven’t conquered. In my mind I have loved to the greatest capacity of myself; I have tasted the very stars.”

Here is just a clip of my article/poem on Bella Grace Magazine’s blog, “Grace Notes.” Fall is my absolute favorite season, and I am blessed to get to share some of my thoughts with you all. I’d love to hear how you will be reinventing yourself this fall. Please visit the site to read the rest and share your delicious musings and wonderings with me.

All my love,

Elle

9.16.20 She is Stories

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She is stories

wrapped in laughter and lace

She is frothy giggles

and deep thoughts

sketches and doodles

filling every inch of the pages she lives in whispers and twirls

to the distance of the full moon’s glow

to the length of starlight’s wishes coming true

to the very edge of herself

And each dawn she wakes

with dreamy eyes focused on the endless horizon

of a new parade of perfect moments

Fresh breath filling her lungs once again

to sing

8.29.20 August Slips

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August slips away in whispers

in heated moments and memories that disappear like vapor in the wind

Days that were meant to lengthen and stretch endlessly

quietly lessen

until the cicadas hush their song and the fireflies blink last

Suddenly a cool breeze appears like an uninvited guest

and the reality of endings come into play

Sun-filled, sea salt days become future wishes

instead of present joys

as sand castles are pulled back into the stuff of dreams

August slips away in whispers –

but the memory of her remains

glittering and golden …

until we meet again

8.24.20 Using All My Words

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So many words … so little time! New poem, new article, new blog … all sent to editors. New chapters, edited chapters, rewritten chapters … tucked in safe until they’re ready for the world! Just want you to know I’m here, whimsy and cozy taking equal space in my mind as I play out my imagination for you! Pray that the words are ready to play and promise you’re ready to read! All my love.

8.18.20 Eleven is For …

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Eleven is made for wishes

for candied pinky-promises and bubble gum kisses

for glitter dusted falling stars and conversations with the moon

Eleven is made for flowered tea cups with sugar on tiny, silver spoons

for dreaming under Willow trees and listening to the wind

for finding shapes in silver-lined periwinkle clouds

Eleven is for giggling with friends at stories you’ve woven together

for blowing iridescent bubbles parading up to the sky

for strawberry frosted memories that taste sweeter every year

Eleven is for wildflower bouquets and whispered secrets

for campfire glowing toasted marshmallow stories

for crystal-eyed curiosity, and believing that magic still exists

Eleven is made for wishes precious

Eleven is made for you

8.11.20 Prayers of a Teacher

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So aside from writing I am a teacher, and I teach because, quite simply … it inspires. When you’re an educator you have the amazing privilege to see the future … to know that it will be bright because you see who’s in it. Today, in a prep meeting, our administrators asked us to write a letter to our students explaining our, “Why?” I am sharing mine with you both to show you a side of myself I rarely speak of, and also to prompt you to pray for the educators who are around the world being asked to do something very hard that they’ve never done before. Whether in person, masked, and six feet apart, or digitally and even farther … teachers are trying to prepare, engage, and love on kids without their usual modes of communication. We teachers are huggers. We are high fivers. We laugh and we joke and we cry with our kiddos. We are relational, conversational, of-course-I’ll-explain-it-again, and sure I’ll walk with you at recess kinds of beings who are now forced into separation. While I know safety is everything, please pray with me and for us that our hearts and minds creatively: heal the gaps, make the connections, and continue to champion the future leaders of this world.

My Dearest Students:

When I was eleven, my parents moved me from one school to another in the middle of my sixth grade year. I was nervous and awkward. I had terrible bangs, huge glasses, and a smile full of braces. As I navigated the uncomfortable transition, there would have been no way that I could have known at the time what an astounding blessing that decision to switch schools was for me – because that same year I met my two best friends and they are STILL, more than twenty years later, my best friends today. 

When you are “stuck in the middle” sometimes people look down on you … they equate middle school to be the leftovers of childhood … but I disagree. Did you know that your age is the first time you are able to metacognate? HUGE word, but it means, “thinking about thinking.” What an amazing new superpower, to not only hear what you’re told and commit it to memory, but think about it …  feel about it. I always tell my students that it is not my job to teach you what to think, it is my job to teach you HOW to think, and my darlings, no matter how you come into this year with me, you will leave it more confident, articulate, and most importantly, loved. I love you … already, because you were chosen to be mine, and together we are going to find a way to make this year something spectacularly and singularly yours

When I was a Freshman in high school, my history teacher had a quote on the board from the philosopher Spinoza that said, “Whenever I have confronted that which was unfamiliar to me, I sought neither to praise, nor to condemn, but only to understand.” It’s kind of heavy, but what it means is … I want to be open minded and open hearted. A lot of people think I’m crazy when I say I teach middle school, and maybe they’re a little bit right, but a brilliant man named Oscar Levant once said, “There’s a fine line between genius and insanity.” So it will be a crazy year my friends, but if you open yourself to the possibility, it just might also be genius

All my love, 

Mrs. Harris