Triple of clover
Triple of clover
I walked so far
And still
My soul's scar
my lone star
feeling of steel.
My mind's nail
to pierce
pointy on trail
my sole wail
so fierce.
Of all I disclaim
my under masts
of waves hums,
I feel of flames,
and Hydras drums.
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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Mistral
Welcome to my sky where Mistral soars
transfer resplendent heaven's fallows,
I sensed spring's advent with swallows,
well-favored in my past times and yours.
It's my devotion to a years' back left fair,
when epochal images project as day fades,
of time's overreach to eyes behind shades,
and my deception that could be your flare.
And in the mists where dew drops gather
defining you on roses' purity of petal reds,
reverberant upwards heart hymn embeds,
senses your scent of blooms and laughter.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Signed a dream
Equal to a bloom white petals
she turned. sun rays to trace;
a betrothal ring of her mettle
was on a silken dandelion lace.
As she abided in floral sheaves,
where all her dreams became,
some mizzle to drum upon eaves,
another chance there to claim.
Lost was her life and outright,
she versed rhymes in asperity,
a love starred in skies, bright,
above bogs of betimes eternity.
And in my mind, signed a dream,
nightly became a sweetest song,
my aloneness became glow to rim,
the star where we both belong.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Dark Colors
Like of a red poppy, danced your petals
have you applauded in the wind?
and a remembrance of my bolder ideals
upon a silken dandelion lint..
Unspoken, my voice abides in floral sheaves,
and all your dreams became
a path to outer worlds, under a rain eaves
similarly apothegms to claim.
A gleam of sorrow the oracle and outright
a field of rhymes in asperity
your worlds received dreams in stars bright
and bogs of betimes eternity.
Inside my soul, dark colors signed my dream
berate my beneficence to crown my scream.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Indian Thistles
She was a gust of the wind
fromward an old dancing hall
leaf in air of the auburn Fall
a walk within sage and mint.
So she fled, beloved shadow,
blest feelings cared to adore,
my route to home field yore,
the pain of a thrusted arrow.
There winds cared to bestow,
songs we both heard in dusk,
high were the shadows to ask
of our rejoice in the meadow.
A distant train again whistles,
two stars on remote constrain,
sad are and an immersed pain,
stays amid the Indian thistles.
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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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My Adiabatic Love
'My adiabatic love', you smiled;
an event encountered in tales;
were so lonely our input trails,
in anisotropic ways, compiled.
Our enthalpy dispersed slow,
following a process isentropic,
inlet-outlet states endoscopic,
an efficiency of standard flow.
Two power binary vapor regions,
worked reversibly and ecstatic,
two isothermal - two adiabatic,
heat engine thermal conditions.
During the fluid standard cycles,
max availability was obtained,
at a given state was sustained,
touring forever on our bicycles.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Rivulets Flow
A soft drizzle flows in runnels,
and clouds above, in souls exist,
travel in dusk, sky's gray mist,
tear droplets in minds channels.
Graceful form, in dusk appears,
from western horizons so ranks,
next to rivers of oblivion banks,
where shadows neglected tears.
Rain rolls in a mentated stream,
bedewed are the faces of dark,
as noble souls observe and hark,
in worlds where belovers dream.
Rivulets flow from mount slopes,
consenting affections none had,
watering blooms in flower beds,
saluting sweet ranges and hopes.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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September
You won't recall the longitudes we missed,
twas September somewhere in the Atlantic,
upon the cargo ship we traveled to aquatic
sovereign realms where our eighteen exist.
On that September we spoke under the rain,
there you caressed my eyes with your smile,
and I recited my verse from a folded file,
I had in my heart's pocket, of words arcane.
And it was you that cried in a blended truth,
made from sea shells and sunshine of a past,
we both lived the days of our shortest last,
blooming adorned apogee of our prime youth.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Flowers Blend
Morning of May,
She shines bright,
blooms a bouquet,
of roses white.
The Light kisses
her radiance fair,
as then she misses,
hope in despair.
A forest shadow,
subdued her eyes,
dreams are a throe,
Stygian demise;
Adored will pace,
in corridors gray,
romantic her lace,
in aphotic dismay;
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poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Merited Fiddle
Upon a beguiling, ocean course,
end for end, we bear up round,
a deathly toll, on path unfound,
reversing a wreak and recourse.
Travel with me far to your stare,
all of our promises up to extend,
all is possible on this time bend,
as we route on a dreamed fare.
Merited fiddle is the winds' virtue;
a night scope, snow icy gloves,
her Pythian oracle, from aboves,
ocean trips of dawn shine true.
A holy maiden, cared to caress,
our images of mind that escaped,
as then her wraith form draped,
a song on winds of deathliness.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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