Dear  Elsa Angelica,
So I have read through your poetry.
If you were made out of five words
Bent and tied with ribbons to shape your soul
Those words would be
Inspiring
Kind
Talented
Beautiful
Strong

I don’t know you
Your story
Your secrets
Your pain

But
I know that your poetry inspires me
Really it does
You are a kind person with loving words to offer at any given moment
You are so poetically talented it is outrageous
You are so, so beautiful inside and out
Your soul is beautiful
Your words are beautiful
YOU are beautiful
You are strong
To have held up so many others who were crumbling
You are STRONG
To have held up yourself
And been strong enough to admit when you are weak
I have selected some of my favorite lines of yours and responded to them.
I want you to know
I think you are a speechless and precious type of beauty that doesn’t exist anywhere else
Please keep writing
Because your writing
Changed me inside
And it keeps me going
Alive, not just existing
And I want to thank you for that
For fueling my smile
~Love~
Ember

I want to be
Happy once and for
All.
But how do I start
-Elsa angelica

What a lovely wistful wish verbalized for the rest of us who all wonder that same question. Pretty words, but also so much more than just pretty, so glimmering with deep meaning every syllable. You are so gifted with the pen.

I did not mean to hurt you.
I am sorry I caused you pain.
-Elsa angelica
You are so brave and should be admired and acknowledged for your strength in admitting you are sorry for something and apologizing for pain you may have caused. I have such extreme and overwhelming respect for you, reading this. Putting kindness and goodness before pride. You are wonderful.

Love is love
-Elsa angelica
So poetic, so simple, so brilliant. I can’t even say anything else, the line speaks for itself. Your work speaks for how exceptional you really are a person, as a poet and as a soul.

In autumn...
the leaves fall
like slow
motion rain
-Elsa angelica

I know this is an entire poem but I couldn’t split up specific lines I liked I was just so in love with this entire poem your wrote. Powerful imagery WOW.

Good bye
Fake love.
-Elsa angelica

You are wise to recognize falseness in love. We all struggle with that and we all struggle even more with farewells. You are admired and applauded by me for these lines. Magnificent poetic phrase. I adore this.

I know I was not a pretty flower
I know a few thorns I had.
-Elsa angelica
Oh, but even a flower with thorns is beautiful. As my close personal friend and Hellopoetry Poet friend Ena Alysopriano so wisely once said to me when I was calling myself a ****: Don’t confuse wildflower with ****. Well now I say to you, don’t confuse thorns with being unbeautiful along those same lines. You are so pretty on the inside and outside. Your work, your spirit, the way you choose to live, how kind you are, what a difference you make. Nevertheless, this line in the poem you wrote is gloriously delightful. Seriously. I am amazed.  

Cuz fear is knocking on my door
-Elsa angelica

Such an excellent metaphor, so achingly relatable to basically everyone and so genius. Incredible write by such an incredible poet. You. Are. Phenomenal.

Elsa,
Thank you for writing.
I just want to express my appreciation and gratitude for what you bring to the art of poetry itself.
Stay beautiful.
I think you are remarkably exquiste.
<3
Love,
Your ever admiring Ember Evanescent


EVERYONE SHOULD CHECK OUT HER SPECTACULAR WORK!!

“Angelica arguta”,
He shows her his wildflowers
“Angelica Susannah”, he says.
And prodded further by her
His heart.
Lingers briefly with the night;
Her affection has power,
But not enough
To keep him
From marching off to fight.

Tristan, son of One Stab,
Brings wildness from the mountains.
Lovely woman from the East,
Fascinated by her,
His passion.
Revels in her bridal bower,
And stops her
Loving any other.

Alfred, eldest son of his father,
Full of rectitude and romance.
Angelica abandoned,
Adrift between the mountains
Becalmed far from the sea.
He takes advantage,
Snatches her soul with riches,
But never captures
Her longing heart.

Years pass and one son gone,
The other lost and mad.
Year of the red grass and
Happiness found
Is felt too soon.
Tristan loves young Isabel,
But Angelica is his doom.

Yet only he survives
The waves that lash her shore,
“Like water in the ice,
She breaks them.”
And in the Spring,
Is gone once more.

Angelica Susannah is buried
Above the box canyon in the meadow
Among the many dead.
Near Samuel’s heart,
The executed Isabel,
And others who follow soon.
Until only Tristan remains,
Left to hunt his nemesis,
The bear inside him.
And dream of one wife lost,
And a lover left behind:
Angelica Susannah
Beside whom he should lie.

He is slain by the bear in Sixty-three,
After forty years of solitude.
And laid to rest in the plot
Between two women he loved,
Isabel, his ingenuous wife
And Susannah, his tragic love.
Do their spirits meet at last
And wander the golden fields,
Or ride out to bathe in the hot springs,
Under the moon of the falling leaves?