The Poetry of Ellin Anderson


By Ellin Anderson

From deep blue space, from stars the angels trod,
From heaven and the very mind of God,
Where planets roll, the emerald shamrocks fall,
Each one a soul: the Trinity sculpts all.
They rest in saints’ own hands, but not to sleep:
The shamrocks are to scatter, not to keep.

They fell on Ireland, in sea-mist curled;
When famine made it hell, around the world
They traveled their new lands in rain and snow,
To put down roots wherever angels go.
On our own shores, they stopped and came to rest,
Because Saint Bridget’s fire forged the best.

In houses white with frost, in winter’s gloom,
Upon Saint Patrick’s Day, they’re said to bloom,
With songs and smiles, with laughter meant to share:
When you see shamrocks, Ireland is there,
Alive in bliss, to guard the mystery
Of how neglected gardens cross the sea.


2019 by Ellin Anderson. All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be copied or used in any way
without written permission from the author.

Winter's Hill
Maple-Key Song
November in Camelot

Wassail Song
The Rooster at Midsummer
Liberty Enlightens the People

The Leap
The Goldfinch
Three Bears
Song of the Lily
White Tree at Twilight
The Christmas Tree

Grand Bois du Nord
The Owl
Moth Summer
The Little God of Joy
Photographing the Moon
A Rabbit
Rose, Do You Know
The Two Pining Bachelors

The Harvest Chorus
The Maple Mask
Ghost Cardinal

The Little Heath-Rose
The Sorcerer's Apprentice
Song for the Harp

The Spinner
The Prayer of Cephalus
Circe and Ulysses
The Black Arts
Tristan and Isolde & Jupiter's Two Casks

Home Page

More Poems by Ellin Anderson

The Little Mermaid
Anne's Hearth