Ellie belfiglio

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


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… Yellow violets near a tree,

With moss beneath while spree!

Springtime along pond road’s tide;

A very special day for grandpa’s pride!

… All around meadow, I see white.

I see wild strawberries in blooming site!

Beside daffodils, an old log-

Stands in uniform yellow in fog.

… As grandpa slowly makes his way-

Back to his home, not faraway,

It looks as it’s always been!

It’s such a special day, not routine…

… Oh, grandpa, the legacy you left me,

For all these springtimes, I’ve been free.

Down the pond road, I always face,

As we did all those years with grace!!

Always! I pause, wonder if you know!! …





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!"

Let everybody be nice!

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