Silken Sough Chords

Raindrops tumble on the hayfield,
embracing shapes of the evenfall,
her wraith appears, time to yield,
a pagan priestess of rituals Gaul.

She flied away to flower shades,
in time passage intervals increase,
as light vanishes, her organ plays
nightly spirits and stars to please.

Her voice velvet, rustling whisper,
in dimensions where queens walked,
where the petals left her fingers,
fair glance tears, in my soul locked.

Her feast follows Morrigan hoards
ascends the night in time stillness,
I hark her voice's silk sough chords,
in north wind's spreading shrillness.

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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There is a small glen in the clouds

There is a small glen in the clouds
where cumulus receive nice forms,
enthralled souls fly, on heavens grounds.

Up there the Sun his golden crowns,
faithful rises to brighten morns,
there is a small glen in the clouds.

Strong currents sing solitude's sounds,
on glen souls bare of painful thorns,
enthralled souls fly, on heavens grounds.

The winds affray in gray surrounds;
air streams repeat some lyric calls,
there is a small glen in the clouds.

Beholden soul on glen, astounds,
a dream is remnant while it mourns,
enthralled souls fly, on heavens grounds.

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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This Fog will Enter...

This fog will enter, dim soul's declaration, in your castle
All whispers, also hopes, one-dimensionally effaced
As if whiffs of supple, distinctive streams mist's subtle
caressing touch, envious, dominant, memory erased

A shadow was whatever you have always loved, thus
non-answered, of drought one-word surmised screams
this time arrived for internal beings, behave, surpass
wounds! Asternal formal kind words, rubbed-out wicks

You expected of this fire to be extinguished, matter of wilt
A whiff! For every entity of yours to whir! A senses' drift

Your time-falsity of a buckling grine. Of my bugle blare
As if a buffoon external spirit killed my eyes in your stare

This fog will enter in your soul's castle from everywhere

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Well Favored

On route I am to her fair eternity
expecting to see an isle to emerge,
Nymphs will bestow benign affinity,
and enamored Sirens will submerge.

In skies will fly fiddling swallows,
melodious laughter will fascinate
immaculate souls there to follow,
playful winds to dance and ornate.

Shimmering clouds white and such,
fast will travel to sway above me,
there I 'll recall one that so much
under same clouds cared to love me;

Well-favored, blissful and so kind,
aesthetic scenes, around invite me,
to fly in winds, with soul and mind,
dedicated nice to worlds inside me.

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Kissed your smiles

Mizzle paths become our mind's travel,
tail winds favor the sails abaft
besides our dreams kind to unravel,
a story that was built to last;

Old tales dropp off - forgotten die,
dimensions to escape open,
the solitude calls to imply
the lit wax candles end up molten;

The cold north wind whistles a tune,
strange in our eyes will shed a tear,
and shy our sadness - song distuned,
encounter odd will be t' adhere.

Same tic tac sounds from our window,
upon a glass stream down rain's aisles,
our eyes search for that old meadow,
where our sent rain had kissed your smiles.

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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False Kindness

Kindness is in our power but fondness is not;
so do not become foolish for nothing sought;
false kindness transforms you to gray ash,
when all follow, pretention makes them bash.

You are kind to all without ever liking them;
they respond analogously values to condemn,
bending thy waist will derive much dangerous
brain's dark convulsions and anthropophagous.

Dark entities are born within people's minds
behind false kindness they hide fake binds;
thus when you accept their kind admiration,
in a hint of fragile logic, you enter probation.

And they feel proud in their frail ignorance;
so they say 'Darling', to a foolish audience!
'Today you write fabulous, (holy stagnation) '
'You bought a pound of hay, for inspiration'

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Sheffield knife

On equinox coastal unguarded brims,
forever far spent beacon's life,
small imperfection, a riddance still,
moon-flash on a Sheffield knife.

I hear his voices in this mauve dawn,
a resolution of his life's altruism,
the images he left before gone,
of odd Styx rife adventism..

One instant of hypothesis his glance,
a tragic wilt, distance of stare,
it was a never equation to solve,
a wine's spill, dim marquee of despair.

I 'll go away from that coastal of Aden,
assuming earth will be mine,
Sunday's sweet, mane of a maiden's mist
and a recall of a wilted sign..

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Bride

Aesthetic dame, long comb brunet of a Sibyl
smiled to me; Sightly to become so pleasant!
as all church bells were ringing sounds Idyll
with her captivating wed lace to me distant.

There she was! Her blinding smile iridescent,
Incomprehensible and great, her walk pleasing,
ascending slowly of steps fifteen; her scent,
beguiling in worlds exquisite and my feelings.

Amid the clouds she should walk, to glitter,
estimable virtue promising, was her glance,
my shadow - the sun was setting an omitter,
to her uprising walk of a splendiferous dance.

Escorted by retention I saw her; face agleam,
walking grace in a flowery conceived garden,
lowering eyes; reciting my verses in a dream,
the bride walked in nave and my verses ardent.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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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.

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Aestivate Stare

Eye glance in aestivate air,
staring at your serene grace,
a beauty adorned with a grin

Whispers hymn a benign face,
so I mind-trace this vitrine,
with you a becoming prayer...

I attend links and my insight,
adores your aura; I never had
as ornament your emitted light,
blossom on water, a lily pad.

I trace a face of soft curves,
advent on emerald sea shore,
to file my cause as blue waves,
sparkle foam's dance to adore.

A beatific flight above my past,
memory is my companionship,

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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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