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 May 2016
Elisa Maria Argiro
"Casa Gonzales, leave a message."

                     In this lilting, merry voice,          

                                        you can hear her kindness,

                                         even that famous dry wit.
                                                          
 ­                              A dusty Sunday afternoon drew me here,

                             and I knocked shyly on the handmade door.
                                                          
                             Stirred from easy conversation with friends

                                   by the energetic, furry little dogs,

                              a tall, courtly gentleman came to greet me.

                                      In him I saw a graceful manner,

                          the wisdom of a life well-lived, and kindness too.
                                                          
 ­                            Together we walked to the opened door of

                                    the little casita beside their home.

                                     They had been newlyweds here,

                                    began their family in this bedroom

                                              that could be mine.
                                                          
                                  Looking down at me, more than once,

                                     he said: "You would be safe here."

                                    Words that soaked into my bones,

                                                  into my heart.
                                                          ­
                                           Time has gone by and I

                                         have made my home here

                                         on this simple, holy ground,

                                           beneath the shining stars,

                                          safe, and deep in joy, beside

                                             Casa Gonzales.
Poem from an earlier time... with New Mexico on my mind... and in my heart...
©Elisa Maria Argiro
 May 2016
Valsa George
Close to our ancestral home
Is an ancient champak tree
It now stands almost leafless n’ bare
With its face turned to the sun and sky

      Once from far, everyone could see
This lush green Champak tree
It stood in all beauty and grace
And carpeted the ground in fallen blooms

Its lovely blossoms were so redolent
Like tube roses, heady and fragrant
In its dark and leafy glade
How as children, we sat and played

Men weary of work in its sprawling shade
Were sheltered from the heat of midday sun
Once it was a bower of sylvan ease
And on its boughs, birds merrily sang

Rustled in wind and shaken in storm
It braved the inclement weather all these years
With its roots boring deep into the ground
Nothing could uproot the tree from its base

How many stories it has to tell
How many robins roosted in its verdure
      How many fledglings took wings into the sky,
From the tiny nests built on its twigs

Now its ancient trunk and gnarled branches
Proclaim sadly that it is about to wither
The tree has just turned itself into
A ghostly shadow of its former self

But the fragrance of these champak flowers
Which still bless the tree in one and two
As if determined to proclaim themselves
Continue to perfume the surrounding air

This tree is much like my ancestral home
Once it was the seat of life and bounty
Now it stays desolate and empty
Spreading memories sweet and fragrant

What solid shelter the house once gave
And how my parents fulfilled their task
Putting all they had into making it a sweet home
That nurtured three generations of our family!
Champak tree is a tropical flowering tree with its flowers having a heady scent !
 May 2016
cgembry
Take it from me
There’s not much to see
In this garden with few sunny days

No prize winning flowers
Sprouting upward like towers
For invited guests to amaze

But when I come home
To a house all alone
I’m glad that my yard goes

To humble blossoms
Daffodils lined in rows
And a spot where tulips have arose

It's where I go to unwind
Achieve peace of mind
And escape a day of lows

So I’m sure you’ll agree
There’s not much to see
In this garden for guests to amaze

But this garden is fine
Because it is mine
Where I happily spend all my days
Fireflies shine over the midnight world
Testament to creation unfurled , Angelic
orbs that kindle the glow of young thoughts
Loves first kiss forever held in our precious heart
Writing our emotions in the twilight tapestry
The promise of forever carved on a moonlit
'Oak tree tablet' for all eternity
Holding on to one another on a Summer porch
swing , a journey through the Heavens on a
song filled evening
Copyright May 20 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 May 2016
Pixievic
Your hands stole the starlight
To paint my body  
In vivid hues of heaven
Unrestrained rapture
Soars like a firework
Exploding out into darkness
Bombarding colours
Fragmenting sensation
Cool night air  
Delicately wanders
Fanning my flaming skin
Stroking my fascination
The heady scent of desire
Infusing earthly compulsion
Thrusting towards celestial pleasures
In an effort to enter nirvana
Soft folds seek firm flesh
Ripening under your touch
Ready to burst with sweet ambrosia
Flowing through your fingers
Demanding in quest
Your skyrocket
Burns through my atmosphere
Leaving trails of stardust that
Quiver along my body
As you cradle me in hushed epilogue
And I descend .....
Back to a garden
Bathed in moonlight

(C) Pixievic
Amazing what an evening in the garden can do ....!!
 May 2016
Stephan
.

*Lost in the hush
of a slumbering twilight
Evergreen wishes
on pine scented breeze

Fragrances sweet
amidst moonlit desires
Solitude dwells as
we stroll through the trees

Fireflies flutter,
a faint glow emitting
Lighting the way
beneath heavens above

All we can hear is
the sound of our heartbeats
Tranquil the melody,
whispering love
 May 2016
Elisa Maria Argiro
A collaboration between SG Holter and Elisa Maria Argiro

Hesitating here, silent edge of this dark forest,
I look beyond me, warm in the white fog.
Seeing your heart, now residing deep within
the ancient wood, is to know it is blessed, loved.

Silver tongue resting now in golden silence.
Palms of soul upon moss and brittle bark.
Animal song; scent of beasts approaching unafraid.
Fierce peace. The opposite of a machine.

In the rising sap of silent trees around us,
our deeply beating pulses listen, dance,
smiling kisses at the shining stars, new planets.
Eyes open, anima and animus press tightly
And distance is no more.

"What language is Yours,"
I ask the still growing giants of
Green.
"Silence and its sister tongues
Such as leaves dancing with the
Breeze," they reply within the
Gap between soft sounds and
Softer ones.
So we speak through breaths
Exchanged, of nothing.
Two souls afloat upon the stream
Of Union with All.
What is Cosmos,
But "home"?
Never a visitor.
Never a stranger.
Nowhere has anyone ever been
Lost, or
Away.*

Humming your essence into my veins,
in tune with the wordless languages
of green lives and wind, listening
among delicate flowers, sleeping here
on the forest floor, wakeful and awaiting
the next sound of your voiceless voice,
wind words blowing
through my long, curling hair,
feeling the intention of your
untouched touch,
at home, just being.
Copyrighted by ©SG Holter and ©Elisa Maria Argiro
(as a collaborative poem)
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