Elvis Lives!


I was catching a puddle jumper to fly from Germany to England, where I had a connecting flight home because of a family emergency. The airport in Frankfurt seemed deserted and was so plain and efficient that I was rather in awe of their system. March, march, march through multiple corridors with no advertising, no fancy interior design, and no stopping, towards the tarmac. I was beginning to think the whole airport was just someone’s brilliant idea to get people to exercise without knowing. Or perhaps it was a giant maze and psychiatrists and psychologists watched in some secret control booth to see who could get out of the maze the quickest? I didn’t know and I didn’t care. All I could think about was making my flights so I could get home!

Finally, we stepped into the gangway and I felt myself breathe again, until I realized it didn’t lead to our airplane, but straight to the tarmac where people were being lined up in queues to board our airplane. I ran towards the chain link fence separating the gangway area from the loading area. Clank, click. “Sorry lady, no one is taking this flight after all except Mr. Presley here.” “What?! Mr. Presley who? Oh you’ve GOT to be kidding me! This is a joke right? Or Candid Camera?” Another man walked up to the fence and I laughed out loud. “Ma’am, it is my honor to introduce you to Mr. Elvis Presley.” I started to laugh again. This man was old and had gray/dirty blonde hair. He was rather slender and completely unimposing. I continued walking to the fence and he did too. His eyes were blue and twinkly and then he smiled, part of his lip raising itself up into a very recognizable lip curl. Gasp! He could be Elvis!

My thoughts flashed back to November 9, 1972 when I went with a friend to an Elvis Presley concert for my birthday. After the concert, everyone thought Elvis had “left the building.” As I tried to keep up with my friend and her mother on the crowded concourse of the arena, I ran into a solid pair of legs and body. I looked up at the man I had run into and realized I could see behind his tinted glasses. Before I could even utter “OH” in recognition, the man put his fingers on my lips to silence me. Then he leaned over and whispered, “Shhh! Yes it’s me, but don’t blow my cover.” “Oh no, Elvis, I’d never do that! You can trust me!” Elvis leaned over and kissed my cheek gently, whispering, “Thanks! I won’t forget this!”

My 54 year old self realized I had walked right into the chain link fence while I was wool gathering about an event that happened 45 years ago. The man who claimed to be Elvis reached the fence at the same time. “Shhh! Yes it’s me, but don’t blow my cover! Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere? You look very familiar to me.” “Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow! Those conspiracy theorists who always said you were still alive were right! Elvis, you are you and you’re, like, really here, right?” Good grief! I was talking like a teenager who has just ran into her latest crush. Elvis leaned over and kissed my now wrinkling cheek gently, whispering, “Thanks for not blowing my cover!”

“Rose! Rose! Wake up! You were sleepwalking again. Who were you talking to this time? He must have been pretty hot because you’re blushing like a schoolgirl.” I was incoherent in my responses, but I always am after I sleepwalk. Everything is in a jumble. I can never figure out for about a minute which reality is correct. Did I really just get kissed again by Elvis Presley or was I walking through my house in my pajamas being awakened by my husband; that is the question! “Come on sweetie! Let’s get you back to bed. It’s way too early to get up now.”

© D. Elaine Wood-Lane

I meant to write a story a day, but it looks like I might only be able to write a couple of times a week due to time constraints. So, I really did meet Elvis Presley on my birthday in 1972. I turned 11 years old that year. After meeting Elvis and him kissing my cheek, I didn’t wash my face for an entire week! I decided to base this little story on a dream I had last night.

Living In A Castle/NaPoWriMo Day 16

The castle walls are cold,
even though it is fairly hot
And humid outside.

I’m dressed in four layers
from the inside out,
and still my fingers
have grown stiff from
writing for so long.

I uncurl my fingers
from around the quill
I’m holding, applying
a sprinkle of sand over
my writing to blot the ink.

Through the five foot thick
window walls, I can hear the
crash of the waves against
the cliff walls and I can’t wait
to get down there and take
a walk along the beach,
the lace of my dress dragging in the water.

My favorite time of day…

© Elaine Wood-Lane

The challenge today was to fill out, in no more than five minutes, an “Almanac Questionnaire,” to solicit concrete details about a specific place (real or imagined). Then to write a poem incorporating or based on one or more of the answers. I answered my questions based on my memories from my trip to Ireland and England last year with some of my daydreaming thrown in for fun.


I Once Had A Dream/NaPoWriMo Day 4

I once had a dream,
horrible and cruel;
imagine my horror
when it later came true.

I woke up for months
with tears on my face,
the dream kept recurring,
my heart broke each night,
until finally I slept,
God gave me some grace.

I once had a dream,
of moving into a house,
it was Victorian and yellow,
three stories and huge.

All of my family and friends
showed up there,
to help me move in,
and to show me their care.

At the end of the day,
my nearest and dearest,
hearts of my heart,
all got together to sit
on the edge of the tub,
our feet in the water,
as we shared laughter
and love.

Every so often,
that dream still recurs,
or I’ll catch a glimmer of it,
in the warmth of a hug.

It hasn’t come true yet,
and when it does,
well, I can’t tell,
for that old house is heaven,
the tub is eternal,
the laughter is life
and God is the love.

© Elaine Wood-Lane

I wrote this last night, just before going to sleep. I’ve truly had both of these dreams. In the first one, in early November, 1986, I dreamt my brother Joe was in a car accident and was badly hurt. He was killed in a car accident on December 24, 1986. I’ve yet to get over that one. Joe was such a tender hearted man and had always been my hero. 

The second dream is truly a recurring dream. I used to have it all the time, but dreams elude me more these days as I don’t sleep much at all without sleeping pills and, alas, I don’t dream much. I still love this dream when I have it. I always wake up feeling warm and glowing. 

Morning Warmth

Waking up early,
warmth and softness
surround me as only
can be felt
after a good night’s sleep
in my own bed at home.

The sun is not up,
yet I feel its
warm joy throughout
my slowly waking body.

I get up slowly,
trying not to lose
the fuzzy warmth
and haze of
dreams just left.

It’s going to be a good day.
I feel a smile spreading
through me
as I watch coffee
dripping into my favorite
orange cup.

© Elaine Wood-Lane

Moon Shine on Snow

3:30 in the morning, and my dog decides
we need to go outside.

I stumble into a robe,
my slippers,
and out the front door.
Buddy runs out into the new snow.

I look up and gasp in wonder.
A nearly full moon shines from
behind Pikes Peak onto
the brand new sparkly snow
below and I am shocked and awed.

This cold, cold snow that has fallen
and fallen and fallen and enshrouded
the country in frigid weariness and
cabin fever is suddenly…
breathtaking and beautiful, perfect.

I suddenly realize Buddy
is pawing at my leg, ready to go inside.
It is ten degrees and I am reluctant,
strangely, to leave the beauty.

Robes and slippers are no
barrier against the cold though,
so in we go, back to bed, to sleep,
perchance to dream of beauty
in the snowy night.

©Elaine Wood-Lane

Red Yarn

Red is the soft yarn,
Full of possibilities,
Warm cozy yarn love.


Life is full of possibilities every single day. We see and are given many beautiful gifts every moment, but often miss them because we are so focused on the past or the future or the pain of the present moment. When I look at a pretty, colorful skein of yarn, I see beauty and possibilities for creating and crafting a gift of love.

Embrace every moment in life. Look at the beauty around you that God has blessed you with. See the endless possibilities God has given you to show and give love.

Luk 6:38
Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”




Beginning of the Dream

Do you have a dream?
The hard part is beginning.
Then comes…the beauty.

Don’t be afraid to begin your dream!

I have to admit, my least favorite part of any project or dream pursuit is the beginning. Getting my footing, or rhythm, is always a little rocky. I’m unsure of myself, whether the dream or project is too big for me or silly or even something I should be doing at all. Certainly I can offer nothing new, worthwhile, or beautiful, right? But, if it’s an idea or dream that won’t let me go, I have to try! So, I begin. The first rows of knitting or crocheting or the first lines of a poem or story are always scary and awkward. After a little while, though, the rhythm is set, the pattern is known, and the words come more freely. Elation is my reward, and yours, for pursuing a dream!

Dreamy Lace Baby Throw, Lion Brand Pound of Love, Honey Bee
A small dream for a newborn life…