Monday, July 10, 2017




Starry the sky tonight
and mild the air
that slightly comes
from the open window
silent the world outside
while lazily I look
up to the fascinating view
of the bright little lamps afar
to be instantly captured
in an imaginary journey
through new worlds and galaxies
and endless spaces
A sense of wonder mingles
with a never known feeling of pride of such a great design
Long gone are the bad moods
of the past days
a strange quietness invades
my lonely soul and
I breathe deeply
as if to enjoy to the full
that sense of eternity
@ Maria Miraglia


Red is the colour
of poppies bending
to the valleys breeze
and of roses in May
spreading their  scent
all around
Red is the blood
of the Syrian children
in thousands dying
under the bombs
as rain falling down
innocent lives broken
in their green ages
as tender branches
before blossoming
cut down
Red the blood of their mothers
screaming in pain and crying
barefoot walking in search of food
amid the rubble
of the destroyed towns and
gutted houses
Red is the blood
of the fighting men
waving flags of unalike colours
Red are my eyes
for the anger
in front of the human folly
@ Maria Miraglia


I met a little bird one day
slowly walking in a meadow
his head bent on the grass
lazily chirping

A strange scene
I said to myself
and stayed there curious
looking at him

Both his wings were snapped
and sadly
often he glanced at the sky
where flocks of nightingales
were happily flying together
forming large circles and spirals
on the background of the light blue
just dyed of white clouds

I approached the bird
picked him up in in my hands
talked to him and
said I would have taken care
of his broken wings
he'd have soon come back to fly
and so I did

So much time has gone by
and I cannot say how or why but
he stIll stays with me
sweetly singing among the trees tops
of my garden.
@ Maria Miraglia


Write for me a love poem
when the moon
her maids calls to stud
with shining pearls
the dark dome
Write for me a love poem
when the winds
gently move the treetops
playing romantic serenades
Write for me words of love
when the waves
like joyful children
each other chase
at the first lights of dawn
whisper to the finches and sparrows
your most beautiful rhymes of love
like messengers they’ll come
to my window
singing their songs
to tell me of you
Collect for me
the sweetest words of love
when the morning dew
gently awaken
with its light touch
the still drowsy flowers
in the endless fields
And still write for me words of love
when the sky
on the horizon
in its endless embrace
the sky kisses
@ Maria Miraglia


I decided to go, at last
to get out from that house
which had been for so long mine
heavy and grim the atmosphere
divergences and aloofness
great like mountains
never a word of love
never a smile
but silences
The only deliverance
from the everlasting oppression
to run quickly away
and the day came
It was dawn
the first day-lights peeping
from the horizon
and aimless
i closed behind me that door
only a lean cat in the Avenue and
just some streetlights
still lightening the houses
inside me a faint hope
to hear a familiar voice
crying out my name…
Not far the sea and its waves
rhythmically breaking
against the rocks
I found myself there
shivering with cold
yet could clearly hear
coming from the deep waters
a caressing voice
and I let me go to its inviting call
My heart stopped beating
my lungs breathing
but I could see
shortly after
some passers-by
looking at my lifeless body and
from a distance hear
their voices whisper
a drowned man…a drowned man

Maria Miraglia

MARIA A. MIRAGLIA: Born in Italy, has an expanded consciousness and considers herself a cosmopolitan. She loves travelling and interacting with people from different backgrounds and cultures. A long time member of Amnesty International for the defense of Human Rights, she  herself  founder  of World Foundation for Peace. She graduated in Foreign Languages and Literatures and got a Master’s degree in Evaluation and Assessment at  Aldo Moro University of Bari; a Master’s degree in Teaching of Modern Languages at the University of Rome and the HLC (highest- level Certification) from Trinity College-UK. Maria taught in public high secondary schools, was lecturer in courses for post-graduate students, in courses for language teachers, was tutor in English, Scottish and Irish colleges for Italian students and collaborated with the Department of Education for studies and projects relating to international language certifications. The spirit of the poetess, essentially melancholic, lies primarily in the ability to let herself go reaching the depths of the Self, reflecting it and then detailing it in poetry. Often her introspection goes beyond her own, single identity so touching themes and issues common to the modern civilization; her verses unfold inside the human dualism carnality spirituality, often suspended between alchemy and suggestions. Time is crucial in her lyrics that from the images of the past get to the present, diving in the desires and dreams that currently characterize her life. The verse is free, full-bodied, unique, and expressive; dare I say without veils but also measured though the feeling that it occupies, shows her poetic where the narrative too excels. Dr. Maria is a sensitive poet whose poems weave the patterns of life in various hues; there is pain balanced by joy of being; with her words soaked in sweetness and kindness, she sprinkles on life the stardust of hope and positive affirmation of life. Nothing is to be rejected in life; not even rejection. Whatever comes to us must be accepted. Acceptance should be the ultimate reaction of man to what happens to him. This is how Dr. Maria Miraglia plays with words, ideas and their essence, and makes immortal very simple experiences of life. Maria A. Miraglia is a prolific poet whose poems have found pride of place in Petali nelle Nuvole published by Rupe Mutevole, Parma, Italy-  presented at the book fair of Frankfurt in October 2014;  Whispering Winds , International Anthology of Poetry; World Anthology of Poems on Global Harmony and Peace;  Muse for World Peace, 2015,2016 editions; Just for you my Love; Anti Terror y Paz Antologi, IFLAK 2016;  Anti  Terror and Peace, IFLAK Anthology, 2016;  A New Ulster. Author of  Le Grandi Opere di Yayati Madan Gandhi. She  participated at the 34 KIBATEK International Poetry Festival of Arts in Istanbul to represent Italy for poetry, 2014  and at its 38 edition in Izmir 2015 to represent Italy for poetry. Author of Antologia Poetica which collects the work of poets from the world, all guests of the international festival for poetry held in Italy in February, 2016 that sees her in the function of    organizer of the event and publisher. The poetess is the founder and literary responsible of the Italian Cultural  Association Pablo Neruda. She collaborates  for poetry with Margutte a Cultural Italian Review , with Express, an International Journal of Multidisciplinary Research, The International Peer Review and other  magazines. Apart from this, Maria also had the honor to be chosen as a featured poet in Pentasi B World Friendship Poetry. She is a contributor to many poetry groups pages both in English and Italian. Some of her  poems have bee translated  into Spanish language, Turkish, Macedonian, Albanian and Azerbaijani languages. She was conferred several national and international  awards and recognitions for poetry. Herself an avid reader of Poetry, Maria’s racial stock bespeaks of her literary lineage. She comes of classical culture, with a father painter, who was a lover of literature and occasional poet himself, probably, she was impelled to turn into verses her inner feelings as a result of her trip to India where she met a friend poet and knew some others as well. Could this be the reason for her approach to poetry? She thinks so. But, maybe it is also because of an unsolicited or invoked gift: Inspiration! She loves to remember what a dear friend poet of hers once said: there are no studies to make poetry because it feeds on observation and reflection. As to her, to devote oneself to write verses, is also "a bit like bending on myself to better listen to the whispers of my soul and read in its more hidden and secret meanders. It's sometimes a kind of catharsis, to turn our gaze inside to grasp the most intimate emotions". Of course, poetry is not only this. She believes, that it brings along something magical when she asserts "you can write in some moments and maybe good things, but only when you feel called upon to do it".