Ellie belfiglio

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

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I shall not build towers;
Skyward flowers to sun.
Lest, in climbing, I be blinded by the light,
And fall, stumbling and blind.
Scattered my broken dream,
On desert sand’s gleam, parch and die!

Instead when skies are gray,
on a day, late autumn,
I would plant soil, pat it to mud;
Slumber season of thud, soon in it!

And when they will have uttered:
“The snowdrifts seemed in its dread,
“That long, dead winter was the worst.”
The brave flower, there in wonder-
Yellowed snowdrops in white radiant lover,
At the site, silently awakening my heart-
To sounds of unseen vibrant earth’s might…


~ Ellie ~
The pictures are from bing.com…



Once, there were sky, earth and nature.

Then there came creatures, plants, and despair.

Flowers, trees, animals, human;

Babies born from woman and man.

Suffering, bliss, play, and convenience;

Life was nothing but a great experience.

Parents set aside and empty box-

Which will be filled with joy and vox.

Toys go in for a child.

Joy and fear enter when you’re a bride.

Hardships fill the box as we grow.

Often we feel to run away and flow.

The box is half full in spring.

A picture at the bottom is abut swing.

At the top of hill you feel cold.

Gazing down the hill to the wold.

The box is full of dire and ice.

Living has had a high price.

We cling to the box, put more in with force.

We don’t know nature within its course.

The time comes to close the door;

With all the stuffs in the box, we want more…