Κορινθία, Μελίσσι

WOW ..how amazingly beautiful Corinth is ...... I would love to stay
here next time if I can come back to Greece .Corinth was a very
important city in Ancient times . I dream to walk on the paved road
where the ancient people walked ..very, very exciting .

Anne leaves a useless University, Anne is a special university.. A letter

 Hello to dear Christos 

and very lovely and kind Yianna
I am sorry to ask a favour Christos

can you send me a copy of 

MY SOUNION poem

I have misplaced it

I need to send  to My teacher at
Sydney Uni I am VERY disappointed 

with the course that is offered
at SYDNEY UNIVERSITY

 VERY EXPENSIVE 

I have been placed in years 2
and 3 because of all the research I have completed

I have decided to leave

I can not learn from them!

I decide not to continue
these Professors (?) have not much to offer (?)

ie  I can study alone

  they don't actually know what to DO WITH ME !
I am partly Greek

GREEK HUSBAND FOR OVER 30 years, 

GREEK WIFE, 

GREEK FRIENDS, 

GREEK LIFE
  LOVE YOU AND YOUR DARLING WIFE

Sat, Apr 25, 11:52 PM 

 I am always thinking about you and your family,
my family are all ok

we all live in the same place ... 

I gave my son and his family my block of land ....

 they all live with me as I had a very big block of land .. 

I let them have this land 

and they built a small house behind my house

we are all happy together 

and I am fortunate that I can help my family

and my grand children

Christos I Believe that soon Greece will rise again

I will love to come to see you and Yianna again. 

Much love from, Anna Rodopoulos

Γράμμα και πίνακας από την Anne Rodopoulos

ANNE: / Attachments3:08 AM (7 hours ago) / to me /  Kali mera Christos and Yianna, / I  gave this painting to my friend and she loved it . THERE IS NO SUCH PLACE CHRISTOS ..it is purely from my mind! Hope you like it ... please enlarge to see the colours ... it was a very large painting  ... I am OBSESSED WITH THE OCEAN and SEAS> I am thinking to  do an exhibition of SEA paintings.  There is a poem that begins, I must go down to the sea one day, the lonely sea and the sky. I am practising a beautiful Piano Concerto ... Beethoven ... C minor no 3 ... I will send to you ... Also the song from the poem about the sea. / Much love, / Anna  / Subject:     imaginary seas scape painting ... this place only exists in my mind. /Date:     Thu, 13 Feb 2020 14:37:45 +1100

The oracle of Delphi by Anne Rodopoulos

THE ORACLE OF DELPHI

They have given me the name Phythia that myths tell, the ancient name of Delphi ..

I have stayed and watched the evening sky exhibit a wreath of glittering stars..

a million is too few for to count..

As yet, there is no number given nor exists..

The cool, moist and leaf scented breeze of evening, caresses my face with gentle fingers..

The silvery feminine light of the moon shines and turns the clumps of Emerald moss..

into a vibrant jewel encrusted shawl adorning the ancient rocks who in their welcoming..

hands hold the sacred water of my Kastalia Springs and on these hands a tracery of long

lost, white lichen..

Silvery pure water from the copper lion’s head spout is long gone, as now this water is directed to the village for what the populace terms practical uses..

It’s history was always practical and spiritual in every sense known..

Do they not know that we are still here and the perfume of Laurel leaves lingers

in the misty shadows where I dwell, amongst the lichen covered rocks and worn steps

so white and pure, of marble, all kissed by the light, Clair de Lune..

I still hear the ancient sounds of music from Apollo's temple below..

Music so pure and in such refined chords and melodies in ancient modes..

Strings vibrate the harmonics of disciplined order for children to learn..

a Hymn is played in homage to Apollo accompanied by the sounds of the stream..

as the priests direct those that seek me to answer them  in wisdom all seeing and knowing..

The heavy sweet perfume of the laurel wreaths adorn the heads of all..

of the mighty and poor as they slowly and reverently appear on the steps..

to reach the Spring’s purity to prepare for the entry to Apollo's realm..

who will speak through my body, as his vessel of knowledge sings clearly in silvery tones..

I am here although hidden by the shifting curtain, mists of another dimension..

It was said that my answers were tainted by gas from fissures of ancient volcanoes..

or from the sap of oleander trees and their smoke, in abundance growing..

in beautiful hues, we know of the mystery and there are no answers..

except can I say we are born of this way and are chosen for purity of soul..

A gift from a God to enter the realm of knowing and seeing beyond simple answers..

I thank you dear Praxias, for we can still see, your heavenly sculptures..

and columns of light although where I sit, in this modern dimension they are not intact for all to see..

To Plutarch, you as my High Priest have betrayed me by discrediting my prophesies..

yes the perfume so sweet as to be from afar was indeed truly part of some gifts from the

Gods and not derived as you say..

These are your words long forgiven now..

“ the chamber, where Phythia dwelled..

 an expensive perfume, occasionally and fortuitously..

filled the space with a godly sweetness most expensive..

and the breeze sending it forth"..

Would Kings and Noblemen travel afar on arduous journeys..

Anne Margaret Ruth Rodopoulos..

The light of Greece.

The light of Greece.

The sun gives you the life,

as also a gift for your spiritual body.

A physical sun in the heavens,

to the ancient people of Greece,

we also follow your belief.

The heavens transmit the spiritual light,

a radiance to feel and sustain all creatures of life.

The cosmic creation is not only a radiation;

It is a power unseen and often unfelt.

It has form - human biological and ethereal.

It is not that we say all the light spiritual radiation emanation,

is confined to one manifestation in great power,

but to all creatures, in a magnitude of forms.

Acknowledgement of the light warmth of the sun,

worshiped even from continents now submerged.

A man can accumulate great knowledge,

he will not go far, until the light of sun within himself becomes Ablaze.

Α.Μ.R.R.

Anne Ruth Rodopoulos Australia: history of Greece will never die..!

 A Poem by Anne

A child of tender age and sensitive in ways unusual to most,

why can they not understand,

don't they know she can understand their language?

mouth and muscles are not enough formed.

Knows her mother is too busy in mundane tasks to really see this,

plus war with Japan , and three other children.

Poor mother fatigued past her limit.

tiny pale skinned golden haired baby knows the impossibility of using their language.
Frustrating to know every word and gesture and mouth of the baby is unresponsive

Decision made to wail loudly ,as any sound that is loud will seek attention .

Mother, no response,

Church bells sound the baby knows instinctively from watching,
that mother has gone to pray in the church.

Sleep soothes.

A heavy load of books.

My Soynio a poem by Anne Rodopoulos

My Sounion

Sounion you are my heaven,
of glorious sea, sapphires cannot complete,
they stay hidden deep in ancient soil,
ashamed for tiny photon to display their,
depth of hue, not easily seen but sought
to adorn the human form.
Human language, so inadequate to try to
say how I feel, when I look and breathe the
vivid colors and perfumes of the gently textured sea.

A rich, depth royal blue surrounds me,
the sun has generously scattered a billion shining diamonds,
that beckon me to gaze unending at this holy light.

My cold marble columns stand heroically,
Poseidon resonates in everlasting Rhythm,
I tolerate the noise of people and flashes from cameras.
For thousands of years I have tried to stay,
although, I endure the toll of seasons.
Ancient people you have chosen heaven for me
to have as my abode.

The tiny perfumed flowers are not forgotten
as they display their dainty and fragile blossoms
at my feet, a carpet of softest pink and white.

I smell a patch  of chamomile trodden
by thoughtless feet. Stoically bending again to
tempt the bees for honey.

Athena your fragile feminine temple long gone.
I miss the melodies you sang as the morning air
begins to stir, your gently voice can still be heard
and the sea birds try in vain to memorize your sweet refrain.
Anna Ruth Margaret Rodopoulos
27/2/2016
Athens

Anne at Marathon, Sacred Bones

Bones and plains of Marathon..

 sons of Greece..

Bones of Marathon,

I stand alone and dread to  look,

instead of gold, your bones,

Now covered in dry red dust lay in a

corner, swept together in an insignificant

posture, that once held your magnificence.

The sea speaks with salted tears,

flowing in the constant unrelenting rhythm

of eternal loss.