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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Wraith I
A call of the gust speaks a thousand words
passing amid the weeping cries of Cedars,
bears up souls in woods, lost nightly hordes,
amounting solitude, of Pine needle guitars;
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?
A Wraith whirls in twilit grayness, to faraway,
beckons above Oaks Shingle, her dusky wing,
our souls in woods, ghosts of a dour Sunday,
dwell in Cedars; call of a cold gust and sting.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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She called me in the wind
She called me holy inside the wind, her wraith;
Befallen souls of angels live and nest,
Twas in my heart, a matter of false faith;
Mistral of dawn, glare to invite, and saith,
'Of sea ghost nymphs, doe flye in foam's blue vest'
She called me holy inside the wind, her wraith;
Pearl skies, sea birds to fly on May the eighth,
On faraway was she but not to best,
Twas in my heart, a matter of false faith;
Enchanting wraith she was, conceived, on staith;
Prevailed thence time reversed, but to divest,
She called me holy inside the wind, her wraith;
On sole appeal, invokes on dawn war graith,
Adventures on sea trips, I conquest,
Twas in my heart, a matter of false faith;
To aggrandize my cause, in pride to bathe,
Egressed my soul to seas and time's request,
She called me holy inside the wind, her wraith;
Twas in my heart, a matter of false faith;
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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Rained September
Rained September
Wraith she was in roads foremost
ancient dance in modes to totter;
with words floating on sea water,
My calls in dreams invoked, lost.
Kind expression was, in night air,
to undergo in my darknened light,
she came to me, enchanting sight,
it was her aptitude fine 'n' fair.
Aspect of solitude she traced nigh,
a brass confront she cared softly,
to touch my lips with fingers hostly,
to hash her love notes in tide high.
Memory she was or a destined coil,
contemplative strophe, poems' soul,
words that rhymed a face to extol,
a silent bog with wet grassed soil.
And then she left, disruption stray,
wraith she was and fled, a ringlet,
there she became a singing kinglet,
with our poems, sepia tones in clay.
She stayed in, with my ode to float,
amid a start of a rained September,
her silent call of gray to remember,
a reflective board, smiles to denote.
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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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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Fine Rain Droplets
n the amid of dried ground
There stands a peasant in solitude
Both his eyes opened towards the sky
To be merciful from the black clouds.
Then it started raining with full grace
And he felt the happiness at its green
And chuckled for the merciful droplets
The round shaped droplets of rain
Falling from the tip of the every leaf
Drenched the hard dusty red soil.
The earth stretched its lap to welcome
The rain to sweep away the drought.
Once again the fragrance of motherland
Spread all over the draught area.
Each and every graceful droplets falling
To sweep away the pity droplets of tears.
poem by Johnson Xavier
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Cumulus High
Caressing air currents above fly
and of pure holiness care to bestow
spirits in poetic paths will imply,
when rain falls on our night meadow.
Amid tales and attended words,
a harbinger sings a gentle aubade,
as Sun smiles to melodius birds,
or Uranus' mizzle streams cascade.
Up there our souls maybe meet
to share a moment of absolute joy,
beatific clouds beckon to treat
a beau of your eighteen years coy.
I think his icon in cumulus forms,
will become eighteen, you to escort,
homecoming queen who responds,
with him standing tall, dance athwart.
As ulterior beauty crowns stars,
ghosts will dance in a ball of merry;
no soul will be excluded with scars,
as eligible promises, sorrows vary.
In this dance our spirits will meet
to fiddle in déjà vu where hopes fly;
noble cavalieri bestow etiquette,
to their loved dames in Cumulus High.
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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Clary
Because of her soul, Fall was mild,
in hazy noons, light was extolling,
in green pasture souls were calling
she called me; and the sun smiled.
Upon the grass she sat on prairie,
one thousand rain drops of longing
and was her rainy smile imploring,
amidst flowers, daisies, and clary.
There our souls sing odes forever,
fly above Autumn calls of twenty;
we pretend the world 's not empty,
wind's blades our love won't sever.
Above the prairie fly white doves;
care to see her form amid flow'rs
and then as night adorns the stars,
consents our stares then, of loves.
Winds call me, from empty noons;
her soul sings and snow flakes toil,
flying leaves dance my siren's coil,
and wonder aimlessly in odd tunes.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Benedictus qui venit
Benigno numine adaequatio intellectus et rei,
Mistral anodynes my tears, sorrow distracts,
omnes enim peccaverunt et egent gloriam Dei.
Domine, age quod agis, il tuo sentiero perdei,
appetence of solitude, his apparition enacts,
Benigno numine adaequatio intellectus et rei.
Aeternum vale, benedictus qui venit, splendei;
Disruptive gust exceeds, breath he detracts,
omnes enim peccaverunt et egent gloriam Dei.
Effectual came, exorbitant slope to convey,
where my hope elevated so lonely and intact,
Benigno numine adaequatio intellectus et rei
A wraith was, so gust beseeched to display,
my lost aptitude and soul upwards extracts,
omnes enim peccaverunt et egent gloriam Dei.
The wraith lifts to cumulus, to meet halfway,
the spirit of mountain, his values retracts,
Benigno numine adaequatio intellectus et rei,
omnes enim peccaverunt et egent gloriam Dei.
__________________________________
The poem is a villanelle written in Latin and English.
__________________________________
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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Leaves of Amber
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..
Copyright © G. V.06.09.2012
/ PoemH.31481137
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Crown Of Laurel
Amidst high clouds rises divine Kingdom;
of honor Gods dwell securely bestow
to those knights serving mortal wisdom,
scintillant souls, halcyons, in skies glow;
Olympus peaks firm stance sacred emblem;
Nymphs sing paeans to men of prowess,
as skulls and bones legions abide and aim,
to accented domes celestial boats egress.
Amid green woods, Dryads honor, 'n' twine,
Assess virtues in sounds of chords to allay;
crown of laurel on hairbreadth you 'll dine,
with Persephone, upon green fields to lay;
Soldier gallivants fetes in modes of aves,
as Siren maids in brines sing nice of loves!
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Faeries Dance
Under the black night sky
The souls of the world wake
The spirits of the woods never die
Enchanting flame and the faeries dance
Feel the Earth beneath us begin to move
The souls sing their song to the world
Evil held back by this night of romance
Watch the faeries dance, mezmerizing
Feel the spirits surround us
Hear the souls song, hypnotizing
Enchanting flame and we join the faeries dance
Our hearts together move the stones
Together at last the dawn arises
The souls of world finish their song
The spirits keep us safe from harm
As the faeries dance around the sun
poem by Electric Tripp
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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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Whispering Breeze
A soft, whispering breeze, stirs the leaves on the trees,
And then suddenly, a gust, lifts the dry settled dust,
Things start moving about, and now there's no doubt,
That a storm's on the way, coming in from the bay.
So it's shutters up folks, there's no time now, for jokes,
Batten down all things loose, and bring in the old goose,
Or she'll screech out in fright. Now hold her quite tight.
There, the rain has begun, and the winds having fun.
It'll hang around for a bit, so we'll just wait and sit,
Until all's calm once again, with the going of the rain,
Clouds will part, sun will peep, and the foliage weep,
And a soft, whispering breeze, will stir the leaves on the trees.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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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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The Ghosts
The ghosts of not repentant souls
Wander in the quiet woods night.
Only chilling cries of the owls
Cause the lightest fright.
Flying Dutchman frightens seamen,
Its sight is a portent of doom.
It was told by John Leyden
Sinful souls went to gloom.
Ghosts dwell in the hills.
Climbers know a ghost can kill.
To some they help to cross the river,
But seeing them you would shiver.
Haunting cities, haunting countries…
Are they humans eye illusion?
Are they really verities?
It looks they come to make pollution.
Ghosts are here, ghosts are there!
It seems they are everywhere.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 8th of August,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Les-Durham smoke
Twas like a transferred odd bargain;
the harbor waited - wraith's silence,
Hope lived in souls - utopian thence,
a notion spelled thrice - and again.
Had sent the mail - my filed advice,
upon moors stood, mist-blurred double-dyed,
the ghosts of sodding souls who died,
dark traveler asked for bride price.
In air he thumped, rhythmic like waves;
and cruel did ask for his death toll;
in town the women wore black stoles,
the 'lost in sea' dwell in void graves;
As Charon hummed, our ship entered,
in this harbor where life's borders,
in verse 'bout cold of rhymed folders;
wake-waters trail was off-centered.
He stood upon the moors - I knew
the wind whipped ropes upon head-mast,
- we drew the guns; he lifted fast;
my shots echoed, debt-law to ensue.
I felt the slug, he moved across,
alread'-a-ghost, on moors he stood;
Tasted the blood - lifted, I should,
red drops dropping on grass and moss.
I lit a rolled Les-Durham smoke,
children were watching me round-eyed;
twas May, perhaps another died,
I heard bells ring and three craws croak.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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