Rings Of Alloyage
Rings of Alloyage
The sky rains, on plains and souls,
Lady of then, is under the foliage,
gallivants feasts, rings of alloyage
are a betrothal bond, prime extol.
Arcanum noble lady, for me waits,
inside the forest, to adorn my light,
comes in the mizzle drops to write,
an ode sings passing the straights;
(Bright who passed the rocks lays
on sky trajectories, ether's streams;
when light passes thru his dreams;
they say he shines as Helios rays ;)
Up there his radiance vivid projects,
aloof grieved souls feel his affection;
the winds engage in this convection
her beatific glance, virtues reflects.
Skilled air musicians send modes,
when forest foliage moves in Auster;
rain comes in my solitude to foster,
and recite my poems as winter nods.
And there, of angel icons she trails,
gathers responses from years back,
she cares luminous to avidly track,
white horizons, mizzens and sails.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Related quotes
Eve of loves
Eve of loves sleeps in pelting letters,
perfect words of her wistful memory,
sadden Spring strings, 'n' scopes to avoid,
Eve rains her melancholy, 'n' petters,
cold mizzle drops recall her anchory,
bedewed smiles fly my air voices, to void.
She gallivants years of lingering calls,
laugh modes of erstwhile words mine,
Eve of loves, silently my dreams bestows..
Cold drops from tall skies always fall,
Eve's tears, doleful drops, facial sign,
Months of solitude, form our rain billows.
Pictures talk, as time wears fetters,
Eve of drizzles feasts on night knoll,
lone destiny sings modes of our life line.
Blissfully comes, with nice laughter,
Eve's doleful rain drops of skies tall,
are compliant to solitude of nigh after.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Arborea Blooms
Amid bloomed white arboreas,
the twirping cardinal elates,
the foliage play while altheas,
adorn his song of cloudless fair,
the silver stream flowing relates,
upon same route and obligates
abyss to quaff tweedled ideas,
while blooms in light will oscillate.
The forest -look- embraces all,
white flow'rs that roil in ether's haze,
the randomness of light's befall,
air's blooms adorn this lavish ball,
clothe foliage's infinitely grace,
nuptial embroidery, white lace,
while streams flow to abyss' odd call
blooms celebrate air's nymphal phase.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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I missed the trees
I liked my solitude, it was my soul's profit
and cared to build my prowess, with content
often I longed for my patrial home's soffit,
and felt to inhale the aura, Aegean sea sent.
I missed the wind that in pine foliage whistles,
where birds were playfully singing in Spring,
and I wanted to count the Winter's thistles,
on the plains we played, where memories cling.
Scripts are little souls that learn to survive,
in austere years afar, with my friend the sky,
celestial trajectories their scopes contrive,
where affection is limited and coldness nigh.
My icons roam on a go-to-meeting greenway,
ideal forms, with poems an affable to grace,
they follow the tracks of an infinite railway,
with scopes on a marble surface to outrace.
I missed the hovering of butterflies and bees,
the haze of joy, the warmth of April and light;
a girl that waited under the sour orange trees,
that smiled to me during my to faraway flight.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Thyme and Myrrh
During these days, she will call,
like years ago my scope to feel,
mizzle invitations in songs spiel,
and keep us in the rains of Fall.
And it will be a time to hold her,
embrace her soul in ocean mists,
and she will admonish our feasts,
my solitude of thyme and myrrh.
In ethers where Bells ring Holy,
Sunday morns our pictures flied,
dew drops on white blooms pied,
as my timed rhapsody run slowly.
In time she comes, to be blithe,
construct reality out of dreams,
noon sun light in ether will beam,
my retention of her figure lithe.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Poems
Poems resemble little strains
of our childhood's distant past,
care to cry and smile with us,
when we feel them in the rain.
Poems are like little soldiers
ascending to a mountain high,
singing a longing ode to nigh,
of what our silences express.
Poems hurt your hands in cold,
as north winds blow in Winter,
inside to commence and linger,
when old acquaintances unfold.
When loved forms annunciate,
in verses that were kept pure,
and pictures our loves ensure,
in misty solitudes necessitate.
In poems words become drops,
a dispersed mizzle in October,
dormant are in a closed folder,
as we recite them on sea docks.
There with ocean foams explode,
carrying our childhood's dreams,
as all winds recite them to brims,
and to our wraiths that fly to bode.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Embroidery
Embroidery of the forest
On to the fields of time
The wings of gray achiest
All in their grayness prime
Of dreams that once were
In the moments like drift
When summertime was near
In ways of its open whiffed
Foliage of winter falling
Thru steps of time’s thread
When gloom shades are calling
In tints of their brownish red
And day is shorter becoming
In each their light of rise
On earth open blossoming
That to the winter cold dies
Draperies of their burgeon lay
That fetches old rustic bled
When the forest murky play
Its wilderness meadows bed
Oh forest my old trail forest
In all the traditions you hold
Once proud habits of the florist
Now‘s in ashen winter’s cold
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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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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Another Angel Gets Its Wings
(robert irving)
Theres an angel in us all
A little voice inside that answers every call
Theres a joyous sound resounding in your heart
A ray of hope that shines as bright as any star
Remember...
For each and every bell that rings
Another angel gets his wings
So show you care and share your light
And help an angel fly tonight
An act of kindness, a tender smile
These little blessings seem to make it all worth while
So try and do whats ringing true inside your heart
Remember...
For each and every bell that rings
Another angel gets his wings
So show you care and share your light
And help an angel fly tonight
(another angel) everybody sing
(another angel) its a wonderful life
For each and every bell that rings
Another angel gets his wings
Say you believe in what you are
Share the love thats ringing true inside your heart
Remember...
For each and every bell that rings
Another angel gets his wings
So show you care and share your light
And help an angel fly tonight
(another angel) everybody sing
(another angel) its a wonderful life
For each and every bell that rings
Another angel gets his wings
(another angel) everybody sing
(another angel) its a wonderful life
(another angel)
(another angel) its a wonderful life
(another angel)
(another angel)
song performed by by Trisha Yearwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Home Train Improvisation 04 02 2004
HOME TRAIN:
Improvisation Number 01 24 04
From city light horizons she is going to become my day-lady
rising too soon sprung spouting with tulips and the early spring
on the home train my heart beats fiddle bass tones and sings
desperate reasoning in the heart: why her whole body stands on
my soul softly resting upon that generation of secret separate trusts
intended in the passing smile for the joy of being alive being alive
for just one more day from distant light horizons on the home train
from distant city light horizons my city leaves me with my lady
my joy on the home train to soon sprung early tulips crocus in
the rain in the solar fun my lady to soon sprung in the early spring
all rise to spread the joy and join the fun on the home train for just
one more day from distant light horizons my city leaves me with
my lady on the home train to soon my heartbeats fiddle bass tones
and sings she is too soon sprung joyously into spring my heart beat
sings for her whole body stands on my soul softly resting in my joy
time is passing rapaciously through the night passing city after city
the home train races out of light horizons sucking my city away
fading into the rhythm of the blues quietly my lady to soon sprung
begins to make her midnight move joyously leaping into spring
blooming with the rising sun with tulips and the joy of passing time
rapaciously through the night I will hold her softly for nothing more
than the repetitious passing of time while she will hold me too; city
after city the home train races out of light horizons onto spirit lifted
tracks with my lady to soon sprung from city light horizons on
the home train from distant light horizons the city leaves a mellow
glowing cinder each time I leave her she is the love that draws me
back; city after city now nearer home where my love to soon sprung
in springs come and gone she is my wife my mistress my platonic
friend city after city wherever she lets me in; she’s with me every day
she sits with me on the home train she sits a seat away at the cinema
on the benches in the park in the lobby the dining and the sleeping car
the lounge and café I sleep where the memories stay -on the home train.
Lee Mack copyright 2009. ISBN # 0615318347. Do not reproduce without permission.
poem by Lee B Mack
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Stairway To Heaven
Writers Robert Plant, Jimmy Page
There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
And when she gets there she knows if the stores are closed
With a word she can get what she came for
Woe oh oh oh oh oh
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
There's a sign on the wall but she wants to be sure
And you know sometimes words have two meanings
In the tree by the brook there's a songbird who sings
Sometimes all of our thoughts are misgiven
Woe oh oh oh oh oh
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
There's a feeling I get when I look to the west
And my spirit is crying for leaving
In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees
And the voices of those who stand looking
Woe oh oh oh oh oh
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
And it's whispered that soon, if we all call the tune
Then the piper will lead us to reason
And a new day will dawn for those who stand long
And the forest will echo with laughter
And it makes me wonder
If there's a bustle in your hedgerow
Don't be alarmed now
It's just a spring clean for the May Queen
Yes there are two paths you can go by
but in the long run
There's still time to change the road you're on
Your head is humming and it won't go because you don't know
The piper's calling you to join him
Dear lady can't you hear the wind blow and did you know
Your stairway lies on the whispering wind
And as we wind on down the road
Our shadows taller than our souls
There walks a lady we all know
Who shines white light and wants to show
How everything still turns to gold
And if you listen very hard
The tune will come to you at last
When all are one and one is all
To be a rock and not to roll
Woe oh oh oh oh oh
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold
And she's buying a stairway to heaven
And when she gets there she knows if the stores are closed
With a word she can get what she came for
And she's buying a stairway to heaven, uh uh uh.
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lady Of The Lake 2
I saw the old lady
again today
the one who lives
across the way
She took my hand
and walked me
towards the light
It was so beautiful and bright
heavenly souls all waiting in a line
but I had to close my eyes
and turn away
The old lady said
don't go back into the dark
it's time to start a new life
with souls of the same heart
I said
I've got to stay behind
and watch over my daughters life
I trust nobody but me and
her mother to make sure
she has a good start in life
so I will walk on the dark side
to be by her side
when she's made her life
and I know she's happy inside
I will come to the light
poem by Dave Alan Walker
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Daisies bloom
Above the effloresce and greens,
baptize the reasons of a brave,
he opens ravishing air wings,
as to engage a cold that stings,
Angelic and betrothal rings,
conceived upon his earthy grave,
Above the effloresce and greens,
baptize the reasons of a brave.
Above the land the daisies bloom,
and poppies dance in morning light,
Air Nymphs will meet a stalwart groom,
rain flows and purls inside the flume,
that coltish roils towards sea fume,
the tears of souls begone in fight,
Above the land the daisies bloom,
and poppies dance in morning light.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Thyrsa Of The Rocks
Thyrsa comes to the mount spring;
fresh water in the jug to pour;
the nightingales are there and sing,
her untamed feelings to soar.
Thyrsa fills her heart with notes,
her songs lyrics make foliage dither
for this pain takes no antidotes,
the singing nightingales spell hither.
And as the lyrics rise to heavens,
and render modes of the wind,
palms join with his name engraven
on her betrothal golden ring.
He left her world with a promise;
one Sunday they 'd meet in church;
thus she waits for a mail's notice;
the roads daily, her eyes search;
Next to the spring rock Thyrsa waits,
and recreates her wedding feasts;
wraiths around her dance with fates,
for five eons they fiddle, in mists.
One of the ghosts dances more aptly,
as she gropes her heart and loves;
Thyrsa of the rocks mentates raptly,
her golden ring and two white doves.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Send Me Down To Tucson
No one wants to go down to Tucson in the summer
So this time the boss chose me
I've been sort of restless yes he thought it might help if
I got away from my wife and family
There's been no other woman since the mother of my children
And in each and every way she's a lady
Now there's one that I'll remember a sultry night we spent together
And she satisfied the love inside of me
Go on and send me down to Tucson and I'll get the job done
And call up the one whose love is free
She may be easy and I love my lady
But the lady don't satisfy the love inside of me
I know the lady's not to blame cause they raised her prime and proper
While another takes her pleasures where she can
The one in Tucson she don't hide it and when she gets excited
She makes you feel your every inch a man
But if I could have a wish that I knew would be granted
Don't you know that one wish would be
Just to lay beside my lady and she'd be the kind of lady
To satisfy the love inside of me
Go on and send me down to Tucson and I'll get the job done
And call up the one whose love is free
She may be easy and I love my lady
But the lady don't satisfy the love inside of me
Go on and send me down to Tucson and I'll get the job done
Go on and send me down to Tucson and I'll get the job done
song performed by by Mel Tillis, lyrics by Snuff Garrett & Cliff Crofford from Are You Sincere (January 1979)
Submitted by Varmint Tracks
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Night Shower.
It rained yesterday night,
Blocking the full moon,
Cooling the hot winds,
Rain dancing on the ocean,
Making the birds shiver,
Wet with the rain,
They huddled together,
The rain making small streams
Seen through rays of noon,
Which stole through dark clouds,
The trees swaying
In we wind, whistling
Through it's branches,
Night rain making ghouls
Not venture out,
Lest they get wet,
The forest animals happy,
That their lakes will be full again,
For their daily drink,
Let the night rain continue
To coll the souls inside,
And the body outside.
Ravikiran Arakkal
poem by Ravikiran Arakkal
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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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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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Tangibly The Wind
Winter descends, a cold round moon,
around my soul; I pretend to be alone,
I am not, thus memories and ghosts,
will hang my dreams on wall festoons.
Around me, caresses are dispersed,
odd dimensions of a symmetry existed,
whispered kind apologies are listed,
asunder reveries from a December, west.
Winds howl outside my door and bring
music of dithered notes, coldly emitted,
a synthesis for lonely souls is drifted,
in foliage of tall pines and dusk strings.
You won't die! I 'll be taller than the wind,
my aptitude will defeat wrong causes,
you 'll be a moon to embrace my losses,
and I an eulogy wrapped by a purple lint.
And I shall spell ancient words of valor,
and other that will embrace the stars,
the first will invite Angel guards candor,
the second will confine ails behind bars.
You 'll fly in skies happier than the moon,
your smile will adorn all dreamy feasts,
you 'll bathe in the caresses of that tune,
tangibly the wind will compose in mists.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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My luck was going first
My luck was going first
Your face is a token of impiety for heavens' realms
And your form, a drosometer, counts my open arms
Ccorpus of the other worlds a false-key, to paradisos
decline of up-streams instinctive priorities to abyssos
An deep inhale of perfume, inspired my auto-aesthesy
it was a God to expire me upon your spirit's ecstasy.
Non bearing my uppish stand, forever strange of you
Supercilious, albeit absurd, expedite my morning dew
My souls convection transmits on winds' caressing
languages of strange forms, expire years of sensing
Excursions of my altered souls, latent worlds inside
Unequal destinies of, I refused, describing of Hades
Knight of gallantry remains on stand, there to abide
Prime promises adjoin of souls, impetus on your side
[Which was that name of yours, I never thought to ask
My luck was going first, on your land's soil to collapse]
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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