Related quotes: Ideal 'n' unalterable, merit believer,...

Maid Of Sol

Ideal 'n' unalterable, merit believer,
travels on misty links of a lone soul;
a wraith I am in her mind, a glimmer,
she spells orisons, rainy maid of Sol;

and in a blest of time she descends,
from distant cumulus, collected rain,
amid blessings and dusk lights amends,
amid pensive lines to weave and reign.

Pondering 's the wind, waves foliage;
my sky reflects a deeper blue of sea;
continents away; a ruminative adage,
her lips will sing this ode on our quay.

With smiling face, gallivants in gusts;
quotable's her bestowed love, noble,
amid the upheaval of roiled thrusts,
a voice responds, far away to global.

She comes to encounter years in rain,
amid clouds, of sky turbulent extend,
caressed face, softens my soul again,
My love inordinate in dusk to ascend.

The sky loves her, as darkness cares
to cover us within blasts and billows;
and she extends upwards to sky fares;
and in the winds my voice crossflows.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Arcanum Bride

She came to me, unspoiled maid an' fair;
remote echo of church bells, on Sunday;
her face was angelical in droplets of air;
she flied into nothingness, there to stay.

She flied amid cumulus to bestow drops;
Acceptable by me were, her gray clouds;
Amid my dusk shadows above tree tops,
Imparted were her Fall's mizzle shrouds;

There I was, arbiter of an arcanum bride,
amid tenths of heaven's scents, in ambit,
a spread of nimbus favored me, but cried,
her glance was a rain dance and splendid!

She stared at me from yonder stills, airy;
Utopian reality to overreach me lifeless;
Trumpets of Angels played in notes merry,
her eerie disposal and bridal affableness;

Thus I accepted her in Acheronian gleam;
thousand tears of raining, arcanum song;
she sang above the cumulus in odd deem,
crowning my wax noctilucent, and lifelong.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Red Wine Spill

Red wine spill

Her voice I waited for, amid the foliage shades,
now with the oncoming of her Spring, she fades;

She appeared once; a tear of my soul to dither,
then she lifted in cumulus, where winds blither;

Zephyr was traveling above, my lone assession,
My penitence she kissed along, and aspersion;

A red wine spill betimes, diluted days of rain,
diluted rain's wine spill, of tear drops to attain;

Winds blither - she appeared once; in my tear,
a laughing gust of the wind, my soul to shear;

And then her wraith shadow, guided my hopes,
To laugh again among the winds, and new scopes;

To laugh with me amidst the winds, she 'll come,
Life will reach an apogee, and heart will thrum;

To laugh with me amidst the raindrops, in clouds,
with a boat to float in winds from sails' shrouds;
_________
shrouds = (nautical) a line (rope or chain) that regulates
the angle at which a sail is set in relation to the wind.
_________
Copyright © - G. V.- 03.29.2012
/ PoemH.30459086

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Void Start

It was the Spring time of a void year,
you approached me, a pleasant light,
opalescent in any nonadjacent tear,
and annulled dreams of a bluish flight.

Amid night hours a chastened clock,
counted our words in sort out play,
and there were lingering eyes to lock,
your stare tearful of my soul to slay..

And then, a rendering of air in foliage,
spirits of forest to descend on earth,
and hymn in wind a forgotten adage,
my poem for you and our loves worth..
..................................
..................................
Evanescent was that light and empty,
my soul followed in sheer darkness;
't was a ghostwrite, and a notion hefty,
't was a shadow upon my emptiness.

Night birds were calling, dark and yon,
with their monotonous, deathly call,
an airy vision, was upright to abscond
as my soul ascended in silvery stroll.

Kindly she bestowed, all I have loved,
an offer to assuage my aphotic depart,
brunette gleam was a darkness above,
amid stars wraith was she, a void start.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Utopian Mirth

Sea waves spelled aright hours on my path;
I thought: Beguiling is the ocean, my Lord,
White pebbles on shore on a widest strath,
Between me, lone stars and an harp's chord..

Sea waves responded; a well crafted pate,
of foam and pine needles, so I became a tree,
Crowned with my words' string, a freight,
To carry on forever, with free wind and sea.

A tree with his evergreen bowed branches,
To accompany north wind's utopian mirth,
Accord of solitude, on draft modes attaches,
Stringing notes of return to a comely berth.

Zephyr spells estimable calls and breathes,
Upon my orisons, entreaties and retentions,
And I am an iron boat rusting amid wreaths,
Perceiving goals, gallivants fair excursions.

I am an iron boat dreaming of salutary trips,
Your wharf smiles is my reason to arrogate,
Amid the winds and our love moon eclipse,
Assign your name, my depart to designate.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Tall and Fair

Amid the field is a haunted well;
a soul can hear soft voices rising,
comely gentle, singing or advising;
and some mysterious calls to spell.

A maid cared to reflect her face,
twas many years back, so her song,
became a murmur to only prolong,
a desire of hers in depths to trace.

A well, some say, keeps the beauty
when poetic words define truelove,
as it is the maid's render of above,
but never fiddle with spells snooty.

She lifts, some say, your soul in air,
together you fly where pure ethers
wreak or shimmer in Spring anthers,
amid daisies to stand, tall and fair.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Communion (Dance of the Lovers)

if you can hear me
before i speak, and
know what i'm saying
even before my heart knows...
if you can touch me
across the miles,
leaving no doubt
that it was you...
if you can smell me
in the wind... and your
lips quiver, your heart races...
if you can taste me
in the rain... and your body
burns with a holy fire...
if you can miss me
amid the lights and
the hustle and bustle
till your soul moans
with darkness....

i can hear you
before you speak...
i can touch you
across the miles...
i can smell you
in the wind...
i can taste you
in the rain...
i can miss you
amid the lights...

neither kings nor kingdoms,
beasts of the night,
nor fogs of illusion...
nor the death chimes
of time can keep
us apart....

i live in you,
you drink deeply in me...
we are one flame
that lights up the
entire night sky...

wave upon wave...
lapping at the shore!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Call Me My Love

I invite your form amid the deck winds,
I hear your voice up in clouds to delve,
'hold me my love as tidal waves engulf,
and gray dusk descends on ripe fields.'

In our lightless home a coldness casts,
shapes of time laugh near the hearth,
much a void resembles above my berth,
your eyes' stare at my departing masts.

A faint call as I stand upon the bridge,
alludes to me melodious words to ravel,
'call me my love out my sadden garden,
when sun sets, behind a distant ridge.'

'Call when streams oppose your routes,
with sacred love and bonds I 'll regale,
when winds my words carry to gunwale,
transform my verses to notes of flutes.'

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Leaves of Amber

A black rose of Fall;
Rare to feel rejoice,
rain to kiss and roll,
silent woods voice.

She comes like told,
a lone knot of miles,
her lips wet 'n' cold,
betimes distant isles.

One red wine bottle,
the poem away flies;
an inviolable throttle,
amid truths 'n' skies.

One sip in the wind,
and a dropp to oblate;
a touch of tips quint,
Blue Notte hue of late;

Cold spells in drops;
melancholy October;
dew reigns bud tops,
and leaves of amber.

Rain soaks her steps,
wind takes her voice,
wrinkles and schleps
a saddening choice.

Sails on red wine spill,
her drops of October,
Sky rain inks my quill
and leaves of amber..

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Ode of Abigail

Drops of twinkle rain were expecting you,
to render your nocturnal forms; hex play,
Ode of Abigail on waves sprinkled quay;

Was she a mizzle wraith form, blue bayou,
Drenched form waiting persistent to sway;
Drops of twinkle rain were expecting you;

Pelting on fields upwards to skies, eschew,
smiling dream; form made of soul and clay,
Ode of Abigail on waves sprinkled quay;

Out on the faraway to hold, April's dew
Referred to aboves, winter clouds of gray,
Drops of twinkle rain were expecting you;

Blissful to far, a stare she was, sea view,
redeeming icon and lift, Heaven's display;
Ode of Abigail on waves sprinkled quay;

She was unreached, lady agleam on blue,
perceiving Winter's cold raindrops spray,
Drops of twinkle rain were expecting you;
Ode of Abigail on waves sprinkled quay.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Valor is abraded

Soldier of oddities, autumnal fog
aborning valor, confer to overfly
recalling his home, in misty bog
counting raindrops, of a gray sky..

Valor is abraded, functions a log,
his red diluted, in drizzle complies

Maiden of oddities, autumnal rain,
recalls his dark uniform, and rank,
he smiled departing, in dark train,
acclaiming prowess, his eyes sunk..

Rain drops fall from skies above,
adorning a smile, clouds to assay,
he stares in solitude, a courtly love,
her sweet glance, upon their quay..

Friendly raindrops. of a gray sky,
form splendid, in clouds ascends,
staring at cumulus, a mizzle nigh,
sweetly waving, amid his friends..

Honor is abraded, beckons away,
his crimson diluted, in rain amends.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Annabel

Elusive wraith haunted me,
ideally I felt to approach her,
maybe she lived in a pine tree,
intangible, splendid and fair..

Nightly moon, our emotions,
euphoriant we danced in air,
abstinent needs and notions,
star visions in a sky to stare.

Our tree pines foliage dither,
winds whisper amid needles,
Annabel of March will shiver
a cold lone snowflake fiddles.

Annabel in cold March of 89,
waits to embrace winds again,
it is that same Spring of mine,
that forth will mizzle our rain.

Rain dances when cumulus fly
drops dropp on celestial aisle
utopia fields wait for my reply
Annabel stares soft to smile.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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I Breathe Her Name

One day she told me that inside me,
North winds abide - and my secrets,
notes of dawn light are and quartets,
to sing again amid black spruce trees.

She came to stand within a faint light,
an apparition brilliant of school years,
when her raven mane waved in piers,
and winds sweeping above that bight.

It was our entreaty that hung in air,
I vanished outside shadows, not nigh,
it was her soul to send me the outcry,
and my interpretation of her despair.

Before I knew, her call was inscribed,
in my lines and beyond, into my voice,
herald of solitude twining that choice,
to stay in soul, tear-sting an' imbibed.

Background of aphotic dusk - became,
so as to embrace us while the windings,
of frozen roads, with pennant bindings
I breathe in sovereign woods her name.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Soldier of bronze

Bound thoughts transform to trees;
black alders are implanted in forest,
where the winds embrace 'em free
and rain drops pour to their closest.

Winter winds around trees consent,
their foliage sweep, dithering gusts;
as their firm trunks upwards extent,
pointing to skies and selected stars.

Shadows float, as hours thump near,
adjacent to his entity, walking friends,
joyous in a silver solitude to appear,
soothing count that his sins amends.

And while a joyful and moonlit glow,
dances on rhymed cadence meters,
a ghost will stay with flakes of snow,
and fly above the pastoral features.

Maids will pass, in light snow above
amid sky clouds in black agate hue,
daughters of solitude to bestow love,
embracing shapes and kindly imbue.

A soldier of bronze dances his fever
in alder forest to sway his dead life,
thrown in with his song of a griever,
a crown of laurel and his wraith wife.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Time Began

I hear the northern winds
up on that slope we ran;
remember? Time began,
'n' now again, time ends;

My Holly, Treasured lady,
as time puzzles me again,
it stupefies me to feign;
in our deep woods shady;

'n' deep inside the forest,
embraced, I shed no tear;
amid shadows that appear,
with their touches coldest.

Invariably there I invite,
your wraith to bestow nice,
caress and love me thrice,
and me to be out of sight!

Our flight is upwards high
caressed sorrows to stare,
now my life goes nowhere.
embraced solitude of nigh;

Is it true, our dance ends?
embraced Holly of my soul,
in rainy months of our Fall,
now I can, my life expends..

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Wraith II

A call of the gust speaks thousand words
passing amid the weeping cries of Cedars,
bears up souls in woods, lost nightly hordes,
amounting solitude, of Pine needle guitars;

Wind is blowing mournful amid the foliage,
while rain's droplets whisper caressing,
leaves that rest on the ground to assuage,
the wraith's solitude, of self addressing.

Denoting calls in the breeze, a black Alder,
designing spirals of airy spells, around Fir,
a wraith whirls in twilit dance; sky's border,
were we subdued in lightless and void glare?

Rain is falling, souls turned up to bedizen,
skies are blessing the form that sky-rises,
benignant smiles spirits bestow to glazen,
as lonely Dryads spell whispering advises.

The wraith whirls in twilit play; to faraway,
beckons above Oaks shingle, her dusky wing,
our souls in woods, ghosts of a dour Sunday,
dwell in Cedars; call of cold gust and sting.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Amid Stars

Call of beauty only remote,
a street number, old note,
I hold, prime drops of rain,
like teary stains to remain.

Lines of solitude and verse,
Autumn raindrops, disperse;
with decreasing light tangle;
with my voice, dusk-wrangle;

So it was you in my dreams,
to shine in ethereal streams,
we became two distant stars,
that blink behind minds bars.

I adored your singing voice,
melody of my utopian rejoice,
Two carved betrothal rings,
worn one day of our Springs.

and like all beautiful flow'rs,
lived for one day, amid stars.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Forelands

A commotion runs amid my mind
a crush was, on the track barrier,
and the flight; with winds to bind,
where our childhood voices alter.

I went high; in paths of negation,
Steady to aim at my engagement,
do not consult your one desolation;
and your lone dark star adornment.

Was it your call? Amid woodlands,
shadows cast your dusk and crying,
stand tall; on conceived forelands,
a pasture you once loved 's undying.

With bells of home Church ringing,
on each Sunday you 'll hold the tear;
twas against a soldier's upbringing,
to let solitude comrade you near.

How far is that trustful apparition,
of words and forms we twined in air,
to write a word string, my ambition,
that led you far from unlit despair?

How far is a holly legion of angels,
a principal star that leads you nigh,
entreats communion in our chapels,
little iced rain and our clouds high?

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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That Dusky Eve

When rain had gone and dusk had fallen,
When birds had roosted and their chirping stilled,
When sky had cleared and the lone clouds trailed,
You held me close and whispered in my ear.

Your voice, like a tremulous rivulet gurgled,
With passion sweet, you did chant,
“In your eyes I see, the blue of the sky,
In your soul, you hold the depth of the seas,
Love swells, like tides on rise,
My life, I vow, by Jove, never to part,
On this dimpled cheek, a kiss I plant,
A gesture warm with abiding love.
Crisscross lain as warp and weft,
We together shall weave the garb of life”.

Words that served as balm to the soul!
Still they echo, gushing a flurry of thoughts,
But alas! To a far unknown land you fled,
‘From whose bourn, no traveller returns’,
To be wooed by a thousand glimmering dames,
Who peep down from Heaven’s insurmountable heights.

My life has mouldered and mildew grown,
Where my Love! Whither have you gone?
Who bid you slink into deaths secret hide?
Why left me to languish in Love’s solitary bower?

Seasons roll and years glide,
‘At my back I always hear,
Time’s winged chariot hurrying near’.
Youth has withered and memory fails,
But in my mind is etched deep,
That beautiful dusk, we rambled free,
When the rain had gone and dusk had fallen,
When the sky had cleared and lone clouds trailed.

Along the winding paths we roamed,
Two hearts musing a single lay.
Down the alleys, betwixt moss grown walls,
With hopes galore and dreams anew,
On we walked to the edge of the world,
A pair of dots merging in infinite space.

When rain is gone and sky gets clear,
When night turns deeper and silence creeps,
I transverse back to that dusky eve,
To retrieve those moments, I sadly cherish!

poem by Valsa George
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First Sorrow

Unknown face that you clearly see,
while the night hides the apparition;
Hands outstretched, waves on a quay,
caress your grimace with contrition.

Gifts of the air now define your life,
you have escaped in the morning mists,
Sunday afternoon cuts you like a knife,
Or maybe you answered to the winds?

Suns you transformed to rain oracles,
in airy corridors amid winds blither,
distant stars of solitude and miracles
where your Sundays in coldness dither.

Twas when you packed your own response,
- the roar of the sea, a tear to borrow;
you lifted choices to become ensconced,
- you were of your first life, prime sorrow.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Our last Swim (R.I.P. Anne Mary Simon)

Our last Swim
By Renee’
For my beloved Anne Mary Simon

An Image of you in a cloud rolls by
The sky opens up, somewhere in my mind
A vision of you in a pale blue dress
Tears falling down, you took my breath
Memories of you...