Ellie belfiglio

When I hear this sound that awakens me, intimidating its way into my cloistered night, I write…


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Ellie belfiglio


Green grasses , in now alive passes

Perfumed rain , all over domain,

Good earth , once covered with dirt

Wet tree , moving free

Blue sky , once was shy

White cloud , formerly thunder loud

Green leave , so protective

Willow that weep , in awakening or sleep

Birds’ happy song , here, there, among

A drunken, happy swallow , once had sorrow

Spring shows its art , to everyone’s heart

Universe gains charm , without winter’s alarm…

Happy stream , with clear water like dream

Vast field , strong as a shield

Rapturous seed , grasses are feed

Half open buds , not afraid of clouds

Glittering full glass of wine , glistening like sunshine…

But my heart doesn’t wear , colorful ornaments on its hair

It doesn’t drink wine , that iridescent divine

Its table is without food , its glass is empty and nude…


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Author: elliebelfiglio

I am a professor, a poet, an author, and an immigrant. I am the survival of many political and economical hardship. As a political immigrant, it took me a long time to master the English language and to come to terms that I can never see my family again. "THE PARTING FROM MY FAMILY WAS THE BEGINNING OF A FRIENDSHIP THAN THE END OF OUR FRIDAYS!" My autobiography, "THE RAIN STOPS IN TEXAS" was published in 1997 by Eakin Press. It can be found in Amazon. As Ernest Hemingway says, write about something you know, most of my novels are about cultural difference of the old and new and American style of living compare to my home country. My poetry are in all forms. I write as they come to me. My first draft is always my last draft. "THIS IS MY WORLD, WELCOME!" "THANK YOU FOR BEING HERE!"

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