Meet Me Here

John Donne, Elaina Avalos, Elaina M. Avalos, The Bait

Meet me here, when the days become long and the light turns golden.

Meet me here, when life is light and simple. And when the tempest rages. I want to face both – with you beside me.

Meet me here, when you need to break and can’t bear the world one more moment.

Meet me here – where I will keep you wild – as long as you keep me safe.

By: Elaina M. Avalos

Random musings on poetry: John Donne is a favorite poet, though a couple of my Lit professors found him tiresome and a chauvinist. I always thought their take a bit much. I think he was probably cheeky, sarcastic, and a poet familiar with the dark side of life (darkness in himself and others). He wrote one of my favorite sonnets of all time, about that very topic. But that’s another story.

One of my favorite Donne “conceits” is from “A Valediction: Forbidden Mourning” in which he compares his lover and himself as “twin” compasses (in this case a draftman’s compass). He writes that he must leave – but like the “fixed foot” of the compass, whatever circular route he takes, he will make his way back to her – his love – to “end” where he began.

“Come live with me…” I will always love “The Bait” for its way of twisting itself into many forms, depending on who reads it (to include Christian undertones). I read it as a description of the beauty and pleasures that this love brings the couple. Come live with me…

On My Mind

Mornings & evenings pass.
Days roll on.
Each sunrise & sunset
Like the one before.
Except for the mornings
I wake with you,
First on my mind.
Those more common
Than the rest.

By Elaina M. Avalos
© 2021

As a kid, I wrote a lot of poetry without understanding much about it. I still don’t know much, to be honest. As an English major, I cut my teeth on poetry – starting from the beginning of recorded literature. Any English major that doesn’t know the pain of Beowulf (reading, analysis, and paper-writing to follow), is no English major at all. 🙂 I can’t tell you how many times I had to read The Canterbury Tales. I’ve taken entire classes on poetry. There are poems that stir my heart and inspire me. I adore children’s poetry books. But one thing I’ve learned over the years is that I’m not talented enough as a writer, to attempt anything but free verse. And even still, I stumble around with words and phrases. I compose these words on my heart. But write I must – even when I stumble and fumble.

The words are all I have to give – though I long to give more.