Amy, Lost and Found

The very air had been electric 
on that hot and humid June day.
The children in the classroom all unsettled.
The teacher fearful, glancing at the window.

The tornado warning came over the intercom.
Children took shelter under their desks.
Teacher said their parents were coming to get them.
Thunder, lightning and children's whimpering merged.

The arrival of parents caused
a frantic rushing to the exits.
All the children were claimed.
All except little Amy.

The thunder bashed and shook the world.
The sky turned green and black.
Lightning flashed again and again.
The wind sounded like a freight train.
Amy and her teacher shivered near the door,
waiting for her parents.
They didn't come.

Amy said she was leaving. 
She'd go it alone.
Teacher said not to go - that she'd get hurt.
But teacher had to get her own child,
she let Amy head out into the storm.
Alone.

With the scent of sulfur in the air.
Donder and blitzen raging around her,
Amy struggled toward home in the storm,
wet and bedraggled,
hair and clothes clinging.

Setting out across a field,
the drenched soil turned swampy.
Struggling against the storm,
Amy now fumbled through mud.
One shoe was sucked off her foot.
She stumbled on,
until she couldn't.

Exhausted, she lost hope in being saved.
She knew now that she had only herself.
That no one would help her.
That she was unloved.

The wind blew her little body sideways.
The heavy rain and hail obscured her vision.
In the valley of the shadow of death,
her heart was broken and 
she vowed to never trust again.

In the distance, through the pounding rain,
 she could hear a host of angels calling her name.
And then she heard the voice of God.
He told her to stay calm and stay put.

She shouted, "If you were the real God, you'd see I can't move!
I'm stuck in the mud."
 
God came up behind her, the mud grabbing at his shoes.
He said, "Oh, my Amy!  Daddy's here. You're safe now."
Amy was swept up in his arms and she cried out,
"Daddy! Oh, Daddy, you found me! You found me."

As they reached the other side,
the storm began to clear.
The sun came out from behind the clouds.
Amy never forgot that when hope was lost,
she'd  then been found.

©Ellen Pepper 2026

Blake's Dream

 

A thunderstorm woke him
on a humid Manhattan morning,
West 63rd at Central Park West.
A dream still playing in the back of his head.

Stretching out, he thought of a
freshly baked bagel with a shmear,
with black coffee from the deli.
Smokes bought at the bodega.

A room at the Y was never in his plans.
He yearned for The Dakota - the house of mysteries
He'd walk past there, then visit the park.
Strawberry Fields Forever.

His dream was Broadway.
He studied with coaches:
acting, voice, fencing, dance, and song.
A small town boy with ambition.

And then, one day, it happened.
He met a Mr Elliot,  who invited him to model;
said he'd travel the world,
meet the rich who'd buy his favors.

Blake weighed his options:
trade his future for instant benefits, or
continue with his studies, 
hoping to make it in a world 
where the odds were not in his favour.

Was his talent enough?
Was he lucky enough?
Could he make connections with the help of the rich?
Blake was on the horns of a dilemma.

The agent dangled the perks of being a rent boy,
never stating the obvious drawbacks.
Blake hadn't the notion that he'd be a hooker.
Would greed sway him to the other side?

His friend from Iowa came to visit.
He smuggled her into his Y room.
After telling her of his options,
she raged that he'd be lost,
if he turned away from his dream.

Mr Elliot insisted on a speedy choice.
His friend insisted that he choose his dream.
Blake insisted that he wanted more from life;
He chose to grab the brass ring.

He made the wrong choice.
The rich chewed him up and spit him out.
His novelty wore off too soon.
They abandoned him to his fate.

He's back home in Iowa now -
chastened and broken.
He's seen the aching hollowness
of walking away from his dream.

©Ellen Pepper 2026

DEALING WITH A MANIAC

He asked a loaded question.
She answered truthfully.
Terse and to the point.
It took a moment, but, then...

Enraged by her response,
he advanced with:
chin jutting,
eyes flashing rage,
teeth clenched and grinding.
fists balled and raised.

Not shocked, she stepped aside,
lest he be tempted to strike her.
Bellowing like a bull, his words were like knives.
Every thing she'd ever done wrong was aired.

She stood her ground and said nothing.
Her face showed dismay and sorrow,
not anger nor fear.
She remained calm and at ease.

He threatened,
he stormed about,
he smashed delicate things -
he couldn't handle the truth.

She knew that he'd lost her then.
She knew it was time to bid farewell.
She'd doing it quietly without rancor.
She was done with him and his ways.

She moved closer to him,
arms at her sides,
composed and serene,
She looked directly and intently
 into his wrathful eyes, and...

Her laser focus made a direct hit.
He fell backward, and to the floor.
Writhing and gasping,
his own fury caused his brain to explode.

The truth wasn't an awful thing.
That man would have preferred a comforting lie.
Because he didn't value integrity,
his days are done.

If it is what it is... face it.
Truth honours reality.



©Ellen Pepper 2026

Gone Through Fire

 Can you fix something broken?
Confess to me your fears.
You carry your own magic.
Counter your rebellious ways with discipline.
Let your hands snatch away cares and woes.

Behold the spirit of the north,
The heat of the south,
The news from the west,
The rising sun in the east.

It's not easy to decipher the essence.
It's risky to seek the hidden codes.
It's foolish to plan for things unexpected -
when the game is zero sum.

 The broken thing can be fixed, but...
only when a heart is pure and chaste.
Your fears can be faced, but...
only when they've broken you.

Step into your personal magic.
Manifest your destined triumph.
Take a walk on the road that leads
to your esoteric imaginings.

You're a rebel inviolate within.
Seeking solid reference, you fight to
maintain a discipline that can be reconciled.
You're able to move with reverence.

Being the compass of the world,
north, south, east and west,
You are a  lodestone for others.
Your very being is...magnificent.
Yet, you remain humble.

Now you're moving like the wind across the land.
A force of nature, pure and proud.
You've gone through fire,
And are fulfilled by courage.

Step into your personal magic.
You're a rebel inviolate within.
Being the compass of the world,
Now you're moving like the wind across the land.
A force of nature, pure and proud.
You've gone through fire.

 ©Ellen Pepper 2026

The Elvis Zombies

 It's a dark and stormy night in August.
We're on the bus from the airport,
heading to the Elvis Death Anniversary Convention.
We're Elvis impersonators, we'll put on a show.

There's Inger, the blond guy from Norway,
Inky, the only ebony Elvis,
Jocko Elvis from Pittsburgh,
Button-down stockbroker Elvis from Long Island,
Mike, the miner with grimy nails,
And 9 more Elvis guys...
 including Pansy, the gayest Elvis of all.

The highway is slippery with rain.
The wind is pushing the bus back and forth.
The costume rack keeps falling over.
The Elvis guys are shaking
 in their rhinestoned suits.

Oh no! A semi comes barrelling at us
 across the crowded highway.
He's lost control and
we're all gonna die! 
Oh no! What about the show?
Smash! smash! smash! Smash!

All the Elvis dudes wake in the morgue,
except they're dead.
The undertaker takes one look and 
with a fright!
Sees that they've become zombies.
The Elvis Zombies...
insisting that the show must go on.

©Ellen Pepper 2026

Tell Me Who You Are

What brings you joy?,
asked the maiden of the knight.
Where is your happiness?
Where is your light?
Tell me who you are.

Erasing the darkness,
Lifting your heart.
Exhilaration, delight.
The smiling glance at eternity.
What brings you joy?

The knight pondered.
He considered.
He frowned in consternation.
He looked up at the sky.

A hawk in flight, he said at last.
My steed's scent as we travel.
The aroma of roasted meat from the hunt.
A flagon of ale on a hot day.
These things give me delight.

What brings you joy? He asked of her in turn.
Tell me who you are.

The maiden looked within and said,
Happy children's laughter,
Sunshine on the abbey's wall in morning.
The scent of bluebells and lilacs,
The sight of you returning from battle.
These blossom the joy in my heart.

They sat quietly, then...
the maiden and the knight.
There was much accounting to be made.
Knowing what brings joy, will reveal.

What brings you joy?
Tell me who you are.
What brings you joy?
Who are you?

©Ellen Pepper 2026

IDIOSYNCRASY

 I avoid overt hostility as a matter of course,
 but indifference from someone respected and valued
 will gradually grind my spirit down into dust, 
resulting in silence and withdrawal. 

This is one of my idiosyncrasies; 
something I've noted over time.

Everyone has a quiet bruising point.
Everybody reaches a moment of revelation
that energy is being wasted
in the pursuit of social connection.

I would have told you in person, but...
I can't go there again with you.
You've been told the reasons,
yet you were unmoved.

I don't want to hear excuses,
or lame attempts at levity.
I wanted communion.
What was given was ...nothing.

I won't slam the door this time.
But I'll withdraw, just the same.
It will be just like before,
but my engagement will be gone.

No hollow nostalgia can bring me back.
My impetus to try has died.
You go on finding you,
I can't help you anymore.

©Ellen Pepper 2026

WHO ARE THEY?

 Riding a crowded subway train
is like wading through hell for them.
They see ahead and behind.  (So clearly)
They see past, present and future in a glance.

Grief is etched in auras. (Plain to see)
Joy is like a bright orange balloon.
Sadness is draped in blue.
Anger is a red and black glowering cloud.

They barricade their mind
when faced with too much drama. (It's safer)
They move in silence in chaotic crowds.
They don't let on that they're hiding.

They're here to help but
so often their aid is denied. 
The Knowing is theirs alone. 
They retreat to hermitage to survive.

Time travellers of the heart, are they.
They know more of your life than you.
You'll find them quietly observing. (They watch you)
You'll find them when you don't look.

They see too much to bear, at times.
They have to turn away. (For peace, for peace)
They see the outcome of every choice.
The inevitable chills their souls.

These are the wandering souls who bear the weight.
There's no ease for their burden.  (It's forever)
Their only joy is when a careful word
brings hope where none was to be found.

You'll know them by their direct and steady gaze.
X-Ray vision is their norm. (The gift of Sight)
There's no hiding from their knowing.
It's better to trust they mean no harm.

Who are they? 
Really, I shouldn't say.
(You'll know, in time)

 ©Ellen Pepper 2026

ENIGMA

 
 You're a tough nut to crack,
my enigmatic friend...
a puzzlement, a riddle. 
Like the Sphinx, you observe without speech.

Enigma, you're an enigma.

Your life is lived in secret.
Revealing nothing of your depth.
Your complexity is a predicament 
for those who seek the unravelling.

The halls of your mind are untrodden
by hoi polloi and
that's how you like it.
Your motto is "Mum's the word."

Enigma, you're an enigma.

You hold your cards close to your chest.
You're the only one you see in the mirror.
To you, it all makes sense. 
To others, you always bewilder.

You're a conundrum of power - 
a mystery to the casual;
bold in your subtlety.
You own your own self. 

Inscrutable man, you hold the key.
Understanding is yours alone; 
 you conceal only from those who can't look within.
You're safe and sound with integrity.

There's comfort to be found 
in your quiet hold.
You chase not the public, don't fold.
Prying eyes can't see you. 

Enigma, you're an enigma.


©Ellen Pepper 2026

My Shadow and I

James, at his desk, is ruminating.
Investigating his Shadow's depth,
he writes what he sees.

  I am malicious, yet kind.
Vindictive, yet forgiving.
I smash false gods with impunity.
I lash out at idiocy.
My shadow and I are one.

I'm not as patient as I seem.
Nor adventurous, in the night.
I loathe falsity and lies,
and yet, I shade the truth.
My shadow and I are one.

I commit the seven sins:
pride, envy, wrath, gluttony,
 lust, sloth, and greed.
All of these have a home within me.
Do I feel shame? I did, but no more.
My shadow and I are one.

I refuse to fuse with the madness
of pretending to perfection.
I gaze without flinching 
at the darkness within.
My shadow and I are one.

Some see me as a paragon of virtue.
I cannot pretend that I am.
My secret is my Shadow.
We dwell together in peace -
now that I've seen the Dark.

My shadow and I are one.

 

 ©Ellen Pepper 2026

After Ovid's Metamorphoses

Born broken in body,
with only dimples left of his former beauty,
Narcissio swung his twisted legs from side to side
as he made his way in the humid July night,
looking for the love he'd never find.

In his life before this, he'd been a beautiful man.
Fine of figure with  chiselled features.
Appealing to both men and women, 
he loved no one. 
He was untouched by affection.
Tiresias proclaimed that he'd  live a long life 
only if he never "came to see himself". 

Narcissus fell in love with his own beauty.
The walls of his home were lined in mirrors.
His apparel was superb, his footwear - divine.
He prinked and primped before going out.
He needed only himself for company.

One day, when he was hunting, he heard a sound.
Spinning around, he shouted, "Who's there?"
A sweet voice from the bushes, said, "Who's there?"
An infatuated mountain nymph had been cursed 
and could only speak the last words that she heard.
Her name was Echo.

Moving closer, she reached out to hold him.
He rejected her embrace and shouted,
"Keep away! May I die before you enjoy my body!"
Echo was hopelessly in love with Narcissus, 
and, tragically, so was he.

Refused by him, she wasted away and died.

Why was Narcissus reborn in a broken body?
Ah, that came after he spurned the love 
of his friend Ameinias, to whom he'd given a sword.
It was used in his suicide, due to his rejection.

Narcissus at last felt guilt,
climbed up to the highest tower,
and flung himself down onto the rocks,
destroying his beauty and his life.

It wasn't that his crime was self-love,
 it was indifference to others and
his preening self-absorption.
Nemesis punished him for this.
Now, in this life, he is broken and unloved.
Beware hamartia: the tragic flaw.


©Ellen Pepper 2026

Stand Aside

Stand aside, I take large steps.
Only an earthquake can bring me down.
The Colossus of Rhodes is my kin -
a towering statue raised to celebrate victory.

Get out of my way...
I have things to do and places to see.
Your apathy won't distract me.
I'll walk the path I've chosen.
 Alone.

Stand aside, I take large steps.

Judge harshly my lack of attention -
it's not my aching concern...
I've learned the hard way
what does, and doesn't, matter.

Find your own direction.
You will, in time. Yes, in your time.
Meanwhile, don't expect miracles -
I'm not a natural-born saviour.

Stand aside, I take large steps.

I've done what I could.
I'll be leaving the rest.
Someone else will tend to your needs.
I'll be over there - where I can't be seen.

I've found the secret 
that nobody's ever been told.
Stay free.  Stand alone. 
Be kind but aloof.
The reward is in the doing.
Get out of my way.
And stand aside, I take large steps.

Stand aside, I take large steps.
Only an earthquake can bring me down.
The Colossus of Rhodes is my kin -
a towering statue raised to celebrate victory.

Get out of my way...
I have things to do and places to see.
Your apathy won't distract me.
I'll walk the path I've chosen.
 Alone.

Stand aside, I take large steps.

Judge harshly my lack of attention -
it's not my aching concern...
I've learned the hard way
what does, and doesn't, matter.

Find your own direction.
You will, in time. Yes, in your time.
Meanwhile, don't expect miracles -
I'm not a natural-born saviour.

Stand aside, I take large steps.

I've done what I could.
I'll be leaving the rest.
Someone else will tend to your needs.
I'll be over there - where I can't be seen.

I've found the secret 
that nobody's ever been told.
Stay free.  Stand alone. 
Be kind but aloof.
The reward is in the doing.
Get out of my way.
And stand aside, I take large steps.

©Ellen Pepper 2026

Chains Can't Hold

Chains can only hold you til you drop them.
Tears can only haunt you when they're real.
Lies only stand to obscure your truth.
Guilt only hurts when it's true.
Stand in your power... then move along.

How heavy are those chains?
Who dripped those fake tears?
Why does the lying persist?
Who really bears the guilt?
Stand in your power... then move along.

Maybe you're enchained because you brought the fire.
Like Prometheus,  a good deed caused your binding.
You're not on a rock in the mountains of Scythia.
You cannot save all of humanity.
Stand in your power... then move along.

Your tears are unlike those of Niobe,
They're not borne of pride or scorn;
They'll not turn you to stone in eternal mourning.
Your tears won't flow like an endless stream.
Stand in your power... then move along.

The Pseudea, children of Eris - Goddess of Strife,
The Swarm of Lies, the very Spirits of Deception,
The gossipers, the false testimonies,
They have no feet upon which to stand - they topple.
Stand in your power... then move along.

The Goddesses of Vengeance, the Furies,
will drive the guilty to madness,
until they atone for wrongdoing -
cleansed of their sins...or die.
Stand in your power... then move along.

Emancipate yourself from the chains.
Towel away the relentless tears.
Close out the lies from your ears.
See who really owns the guilt.
Stand in your power... then move along.
Stand in your power... then move along.

©Ellen Pepper 2026

PEARL

 Matthew said: "...neither cast ye your pearls before swine,
 lest they trample them under their feet, 
and turn again and rend you."

Pearl was born in the darkness of poverty. 
Her daddy was dead and her mother, too tired.
The struggles were real. There was never enough.
Then her mother sickened and died.

Pearl grew up too fast for comfort.
Her siblings drifted off into crime and penalty.
She needed a port in life's storm.
Instead, a coach served to save her.

Pearl found salvation by singing at the station.
Passersby would toss few coins in her case.
She wrote her own songs, and sometimes,
people would listen.

Late one afternoon, 
a suited man stopped before her.
He frowned yet seemed anxious.
Then, anger reddened his face.

The man blurted out: "Why do you cast your pearls before swine, my dear? You're better than this! You should be in a concert hall."

Smiling wryly, Pearl sang another song.
This one spoke of lost chances, no contacts, no hope.
Nodding, the man gave her his card:
Wilfred P. Buckle-Thorpe was his name.
 

 "You can call me Willy. What's your name?" 

 "It's funny you should speak of swine. My name is Pearl."

Willy brought fame and good fortune to Pearl.
She traveled the world giving concerts.
They kept in touch until Willy retired.
Sadly, he died the next day.

And Pearl... where is she now?
She's living well in Paris. 
She's happy. She's a pearl of great value.
And the swine? They pay to hear her sing.

©Ellen Pepper 2026

WALK ON

 
Listen to your mind.
Is it saying what you want to hear?
 Desiring confirmation,
your eyes follow the spider as it spins its web.

Are these breadcrumbs or are they nibbles?
What is given is what you get.
Options are to ignore or call it out.
Crimson flags are flying.

Walk on, walk on, just walk away.

Willy the Shake had it down:
"Lordy, what fools these mortals be..."
Someone needs clarity.
Someone ain't around to give it.

Walk on, walk on, just walk away.

Put down your sword.
Remove the blindfold.
You don't wanna run anymore.
There's no point in waiting.

Walk on, walk on, just walk away.

Silence does not mean you stopped feeling.
Love doesn't fade when it comes from the soul. 
This ain't no fairytale;
There won't be a happy ending.

Walk on, walk on, just walk away.

It takes silence to understand what's being said. 
The quiet mind responds skilfully.
A serenity of spirit will redeem, but...
for right now, at this moment -

Walk on, walk on, just walk away.

©Ellen Pepper 2026