Friday, May 18, 2018

In Reflection... Nebula

In Reflection...
To send light into the darkness of men's hearts - such is the duty of the artist.
Robert Schumann
1810 - 1856

Stars and galaxies, vistas of splendor and glory
Within the secrets, the miracles of Creation's story
Stardust in waves of time and space
From which our spirit we to trace
Light beholden within our heart
From where love has its primal start
Known be the fire of the Creator's flame
And we the Presence of All so named.

Rose Marie Raccioppi
Poet Laureate
Orangetown, New York

The Blue Horsehead Nebula in Infrared 
Image Credit: WISE, IRSA, NASA; Processing & Copyright :
Francesco Antonucci

Monday, May 14, 2018

Garden Song of the Night...

Garden Song of the Night

listen to the night
feel the quiver of roots
the garden song be heard
the gentle rain in libation
entrancing emergent  green
touched by the light of the stars
this night, this night in blessings BE.

Rose Marie Raccioppi
Poet Laureate
Orangetown, New York

Garden Song of the Night, ©Rose Marie Raccioppi, APOGEE Vibrational Art,

Sunday, May 13, 2018

A ROSE of White...

A ROSE of White

delicate beauty bears this ROSE of white
petals to hold the Creator's light
a symbol of purity, a symbol of love
spirit from earth and heavens above
a bloom, the grace of the divine
touched be the heart, yours, mine
be this a flower that comes to say
have a loving and blessed Mother's Day.

Ever with love,
Rose Marie Raccioppi

Friday, May 11, 2018


Ah… and what be the agenda of the ALCHEMIST…

                Truth ...

... conjure the magic... be touched by its spell.

Rose Marie Raccioppi

The Alchemist, Watercolour & Gouache, 31 x 24cm, Chris Dunn, 2012.

Wednesday, May 2, 2018

Realms ...

upon the brown earth I stand 
the warmth of this day and I am entwined
the lambent sky of clear blue bears an embracing light
suspended in a timeless moment of BEING
weightless as in a dream
contained as in a womb
free be this flight of blessedness
free be this soaring
this soaring into the realms 
into the realms of BEING.

Rose Marie Raccioppi
Poet Laureate
Orangetown, New York

Monday, April 30, 2018

Rocky III • Eye of the Tiger • Survivor

Identity... my father a Golden Gloves champion 
and I born in the Year of the Tiger...
footwork is my game... 
yes, SURVIVOR is the core of my soul!! 

I listen, feel I the rhythm, strong, engaging, 
words resounding through each cell, 
and the blood flows passion and power!!

The Eye of the Tiger 
SURVIVOR is the core of my soul!! 

Rose Marie Raccioppi
Poet Laureate
Orangetown, New York

Saturday, April 28, 2018

Orangetown Historical Museum & Archives Loyal to the Crown Poetry Reading

Rose Marie Raccioppi, backed by the portrait of English Poet, Ben Johnson, 1572 - 1637, 
to which she gives tribute to in her poetic presentation ...

Orangetown Historical Museum and Archives

Loyal to the Crown Poetry Reading

“Counsel of Old”
"The Collection”
“Ben Johnson ~ The Poet’s Pen”

Counsel of Old

The poet and the bard with word and song did convey
To kings and rulers the heartfelt messages of the day
Counsel given in rhyme, gestures telling they be
To alert the kingdom of tales from across the sea
Jesters and jokers with wit would wisely advise
To be aware of those that mask and veil deceit and lies
Be it well that such wisdom of counsel shall be heard
For from their knowing hearts came echoes of THE WORD
Visions to be shared and truth ever to be sought
These the trappings that bards and jesters have brought
Be well advised that this counsel of old
Has a present day story yet to be told
Those with deliberate agendas of deception and demise
Seek not the counsel of the poetic nor of the wise
The artistry of the word in its truth shall ever prevail
For it is beauty and truth that the noble and wise rightly hail
A poet of modern times in rhyme I choose to pen the word
May your counsel of heart too, be known and ever heard.

Rose Marie Raccioppi
Poet Laureate
Orangetown, New York

The Collection

British Art from the Collection of George Way
And we in gratitude for such a splendid array
Here we gather, privileged are we to see
Art and artifacts of a time past from across the sea
Portraits most regal, and elegant in their attire
Historic personages portrayed to reverently admire
Look into the eyes and feel their story yet to be told
Portraits of a yesterday, time and history do enfold
Coinage and carvings, fine craft of hand and heart
Holding the memories from which we shan’t depart
Platters, adornments, pendants, clocks, buttons, there be
Boxes and chests, carvings beholden to sacred geometry
Word, art, and artifacts here in regal presentation
A collection of British Art, be it in gracious celebration.

Rose Marie Raccioppi
Poet Laureate
Orangetown, New York

Ben Johnson
1572 - 1637

Ben Johnson here in portraiture elegant and in noble stead
Known he be for ever a poetic word and an expressed creed
Poet, essayist, playwright, dramatist, literary critic of his time
Of life, passion, loss, love, encounters of the day and the divine
Words of heart, mind, mood, blessings, laments and tender grace
From his time to this moment present ours to endearingly trace
And so I share lines that speak a poet’s heart tried and true
From days long gone brought lovingly to you…

To the Memory of My Beloved the Author,
Mr. William Shakespeare

While I confess thy writings to be such
As neither man nor muse can praise too much...
Of Shakespeare's mind and manners brightly shines
In his well-turned, and true-filed lines...
And art alive still while thy book doth live
And we have wits to read and praise to give.
He was not of an age but for all time!
And all the Muses still were in their prime…

Song: to Celia [“Drink to me only with thine eyes”]

Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I’ll not look for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise
Doth ask a drink divine;
But might I of Jove’s nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much honouring thee
As giving it a hope, that there
It could not withered be.
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
And sent’st it back to me;
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.

The Poet’s Pen

The poet's pen with plea in heart
From which words have their start
A tree, a blossom, a water's flow
These the gifts of grace the poet does know
The music, the wind, a songbird heard
The poet so touched and offers a word
The spirits of song, of dance, of music, of art
From the poet's pen ne'er shall they depart
Heart’s joy and love ever in praise
This the expressed delight of the poet’s days
The muse of all to entreat soul's pleasure
Words of musing, be the poet's treasure.

Rose Marie Raccioppi
Poet Laureate
Orangetown, NewYork