When I hear music, I jump to my feet.

I twirl. I whirl. I bop to the beat.
When I dance, my body sings.
I love to dance more than anything!
When I hear music, I ditch my seat. 
I shimmy like a snake that has no feet.
I soar like a hawk on open wings.
My body needs to dance more than anything.
Come on! Get up! Get off your seat.
Listen to the music. Move to the beat.
Shake and sway! Spin and swing! 
Wriggle your hips like a shimmering spring!
When I’m dancing, my body sings.
I love to dance more than anything! 

© 2011 Elizabeth Ehrenfest Steinglass, all rights reserved

Stinkhorn Mushroom
copyright 2010 Christian F. Schwartz
http://mushroomobserver.org

It grew in the muck

From an underground egg


That cracked in the dirt,

Then sprouted a leg.


The leg wore a sock

That stank and drew pests


That carried its seed

And started new nests.


Yet, to the mousy bride

It seemed—


         A more beautiful veil

         Than she’d ever dreamed. 



© 2011 Elizabeth Ehrenfest Steinglass, all rights reserved

We all dressed as gypsies. We all

wore tall boots and long skirts
and shirts un-tucked and we all
tried to flirt and twirl our skirts
before we skipped down the street,
tapping our feet and ringing bells, 
telling what we were to get our treat,
singing on the street the songs to sell
the candies we’d gotten that night.
That night we headed home on tired feet
to sort our treats and trade in the light.
That night, everything was sweet. 

© 2011 Elizabeth Ehrenfest Steinglass, all rights reserved

She couldn’t do it,

Couldn’t make herself
Put her foot
On the strange
Moving stairs.
Alice had done it.
There she was
Rising into the sky,
Smiling even.
But still,
On the ground
They seemed dangerous,
These steps
That moved by themselves
Taking you only
Forward and up.
What if she changed her mind?
People crowded
Behind her
Urging her on.
“What’s taking so long?” they asked.
It was nothing to them.
She pushed
Through the crowd,
Watching Alice
Rise above her.
Who knew what could happen
In this country
Where you took just one step
And were swept away?

© 2011 Elizabeth Ehrenfest Steinglass, all rights reserved

There’s a monster hiding there—

Right behind that door.
And though it’s quiet now
It makes an awful roar.
It has a gaping mouth
That never needs to close,
And it can swallow anything
Even people’s toes.
But what is worst of all—
It never runs away
Because my mother lets it out
And helps it to its prey. 

© 2011 Elizabeth Ehrenfest Steinglass, all rights reserved

The teacher said

Paint things
Like they really are.
I said I did—
Leaves are red,
Sky is yellow,
And even though
My skin looks pink,
I am truly purple.

© 2011 Elizabeth Ehrenfest Steinglass, all rights reserved

After three

days of rain
white-capped
mushrooms
litter the grass
like umbrellas
abandoned
when the sun
came out.

© 2011 Elizabeth Ehrenfest Steinglass, all rights reserved

Dear Mr. Wordsworth, here I lie

On my couch in a pensive hour,

Listening to chill winds cry,

While shivering branches scour

The window glass, but thanks to you

I am not limited to this view.


Through your words and by my will

I am transported to another day, far away,

Where daffodils gather along a hill,

Put to shame the waves in a bay,

Challenge the stars with their multiplicity,

And give my life a joyous duplicity.


But even as my cheeks grow warm

By the glow of ten thousand faces,

The sky changes, clouds form,

Rain pours down, ruining your graces.

For it is not your daffodils I crave,

But your company, as I watch them wave. 



© 2011 Elizabeth Ehrenfest Steinglass, all rights reserved