The essence of Quartered Enlightenment began nearly a decade ago in Trisha’s garden. While tending to her roses in her Shakespearean garden, Trisha contemplated how the plants felt living through each season. From this starting point, Quartered Enlightenment evolved to the story it is today.
Trisha’s interest in gardening and the arts began in early childhood.
These passions have remained and find their way onto the pages of her literary endeavors. 
She is a member of the Board of Directors of the Midwest Writing Center. Her literary works focus on gardening, horticultural therapy, alternative healing, and poetry. These works have been featured in numerous local, national, and international publications, including The Radish, Chicago Parents, Country Woman, Birds & Blooms, and Taste of Home.

Excerpts from Quartered Enlightenment. Get entangled in the story through reading a poem from each, "Quarter".

From the Quarter, Summer:
Alone in Silence
Pages woven perfectly together.
Plants blooming colourful and green.
They welcome me returning from worship,
waiting to accompany me.
The sun shines brightly creating dew on my glass
from melting ice in sweetened tea,
with hints of fresh mint and raspberries
harvested only a few feet away.
In the safe confines of my garden
I can travel the world.
I lose myself in foreign lands
by only turning the page.
On the veranda an entire afternoon spent,
the same over the years of passing Sundays,
surrounded by books and plants,
alone in silence.
Late afternoon cast shadows on the garden.
The words, the end, just read.
I rise from my place of security and peace
with an emerging thought of courage.
My scarf and my bag in hand
I leave the quiet of my garden,
with the need to explore the world
and find an unpublished story.

From the Quarter, Autumn:
Cool Breezes of Consciousness
In the midst of Summer’s heat
a cool breeze chilled my spine
piercing my heart
bringing suppressed thoughts to clarity of mind.
For years of Summers, I truly loved him.
The intense feelings I felt were exchanged.
The weight of life has compressed our hearts,
passions fade into mundane, routine.
Do I still love him?
Yes, but I am struggling to answer.
Does he still love me?
His reply was yes in a cold emotionless manner.
Over time love has changed
from deep connections once felt,
our bonds of love have melted
to silence and avoidance.
Conversations once shared,
now answers are reduced to a single word.
The only eye contact exchanged,
looks of anger during the heat of battle.
We collide over subjects with very little meaning.
My spirit tears while I feel my soul leave.
His growing frustrations, explosive.
My mental prayers of protection, pleading.
This has become the way of life.
Void of laughter, happiness and joy.
In my garden, I escape
for stolen moments of peace.
Is this what God intended?
Is this what marriage means?
Is this healthy for the children?
But on the altar a promise made.

From the Quarter, Winter:
She Who Questions Life
What are my feelings of life, death?
When the branches and blooms fade.
What does happen?
Will my spirit move on?
Will my Father come for me?
Will I see Him, when life force fades and spirit leaves?
My fears abound the thought of death.
A fear I can not face.
How does death feel?   


From the Quarter, Spring:
The Melting of Snow
I’m still, cold, lifeless, motionless
under a tarp of hibernation
doubting a new dawn.
Then, the Sun comes,
daylight warms the Earth.
Snow turns to nourishment
seeking my roots.
Breathing deeply, I stretch,
moving, unwinding with each breath.
The pulse of life, I feel
running through me with each inhale.
I rediscover life, warming my soul.
My roots deepen, leaves begin to grow.
Pushing up toward the sky.
My past melted, winter survived.


Excerpt from the award winning Poet, Sandy Marchetti's afterword:
...Louise Glück’s voice also echoes through Georgiou’s work.  I am reminded of Glück’s seminal work, The Wild Iris, in the organization of Quartered Enlightenment around vespers, gardening, and domestic life.  The poem, “Sharing the Shadow of the Moon,” and its lines, “His charm led me further, / by lifting the weight from my shoulders, / taking my purse and the bag of fresh offerings” speak to Glück’s early poem, “The Encounter”: “I drew the gown over my head; / a red flush covered my face and shoulders. / It will run its course, the course of fire.”  Like in Glück’s work, there is a danger in the poems of Quartered Enlightenment.  An impending darkness shows itself in the final stanza of “Autumnal Equinox”:
       When you stepped away from my embrace,
     lowered my arms from around your waist,
            the look in your eyes, the stress on your face,
   I knew at that moment, summer ended.

Sandra Marchetti teaches writing and literature outside of her native Chicago.  She completed her MFA in Creative Writing–Poetry at George Mason University in 2010.