Best Sorrento Poems
On some bleak airfield on some Cambridge fen
(that awful winter – 'forty-seven, I think)
my mother, novice servicewoman then,
crossed parade-ground like a skating rink
to see the Christmas concert on the camp.
Inside, the nissen hut was black as ink
till airmen lit a feeble spirit lamp.
The snow was driving against one outer wall:
she calls to mind a smell of tents and damp
and stinging fingers, fresh from snowballs,
and gouts of steam, blown out in cloudy spurts
as people laughed. Then lights dimmed in the hall.
She now recalls a curious stab of hurt
to see the Italian janitor of the base
revealed onstage in P.O.W. shirt
when curtains opened. What had been a place
of uproar, now – faced by this threadbare clown –
had undergone some dreadful loss of face.
In dubbin make-up, N.A.A.F.I. dressing-gown,
as solemn as a high priest at the altar,
this patched-up Pagliacci, ear-flaps down,
sang ludicrously well. The keyboard faltered,
and stopped. The singer, weeping now, kept on,
quite heedless, as his clown's nose dripped tear-water.
There's something sacred in the humblest song
(with wretchedness wrought into lasting good
through alchemy of art) and, all along,
the watchers, to their horror, understood.
He sang so gorgeously of going home
because he knew full well he never would.
A lemony drink that is mellow
Alcohol sugar zest yellow
Unlike its fruit tree
It's said with a long e
In Sorrento they make limoncello
I could be where the palm trees sway in a tropical breeze,
The pace is slow, the air is warm, and I can take my ease.
Drinking chilled coconut from the shell, a blue ocean view,
But, the only place I want to be, is right here with you.
I could be way up high, in a distant land, a Himalayan retreat,
Watching the sunset over Everest, wood fireplace, effusing heat.
Relaxing in the whirlpool, the steam rises, as I sip a hot brew.
But, the only place I want to be, is right here with you.
I could be enthralled as Parana journeys to it's end, at the falls,
200 rivers, cascading in unison, as I meditate struck in awe.
I could be contemplating, the transcendent beauty of Iguazu,
But, the only place I want to be, is right here with you.
I could be in Sorrento, bay of Napoli, not far from Capri,
watching cruise ships floating by, observing life so carefree.
From the marina, I marvel at the houses built into cliffs,
I daydream of what it could be like, to live like this.
But, of all the places I could go, and the things that I could do,
The only place I want to be...is right here with you.
John Derek Hamilton November 10, 2015
From Banksia Grove to Alfred Cove
There are lovely sights to see
Sorrento Quay is on the way
To where my children love to play
Elizabeth Quay is a brand new place
That puts a smile upon my face
Oh Perth is such a lovely place to be
South West Australia is for me
Then Midland lies there in the East
And Fremantle lies in the West
But every part of our grand city
To me, she is the best
I found a place of
divine intervention
The Land of Italy
The Towers of
Sorrento and Capri
So it is,
I fell in love
with this place
a country so full of grace
Italy with history of war,
volcanoes, earth and sea
People friendly, loving, caring...
Sorrento luring me into
it's piano bars and night life
fragrances of food
touching my hunger
Onto Assisi, historical buildings
and Churches meet
A quaint town lines
cobble stoned streets
Capri almost a country on it's own
an Island in the sea
A rock with a hole
the "Blue Grotto" it is called
at top a surface quite flat
they offer coconut drinks
and a cable car spat.
(c) Glen Harris 11/2/2000
(N.A.A.F.I. = universal store, found on
every British military base)
On some bleak airfield on some Cambridge fen
(that awful winter - 'forty-seven, I think)
my mother, novice servicewoman then,
crossed parade-ground like a skating rink
to see the Christmas concert on the camp.
Inside, the quonset hut was black as ink
till airmen lit a feeble spirit lamp.
The snow was driving against one outer wall:
she calls to mind a smell of tents and damp
and stinging fingers, fresh from thrown snowballs,
and gouts of steam, blown out in cloudy spurts
as people laughed. Then lights dimmed in the hall.
She now recalls a curious stab of hurt
to see the Italian janitor of the base
revealed onstage in P.O.W. shirt
when curtains opened. What had been a place
of uproar, now - faced by this threadbare clown -
had undergone some dreadful loss of face.
In dubbin make-up, N.A.A.F.I. dressing-gown,
as solemn as a high priest at the altar,
this patched-up Pagliacci, ear-flaps down,
sang ludicrously well. The keyboard faltered,
and stopped. The singer, weeping now, kept on,
quite heedless, as his clown's nose dripped tear-water.
There's something sacred in the humblest song
(with wretchedness wrought into lasting good
through alchemy of art) and, all along,
the watchers, to their horror, understood.
He sang so gorgeously of going home
because he knew full well he never would.
Has anyone ever seen the fertile Felix Ager,
which the Romans called, " The happy land?
Along the astonishing coastline are found:
the odorous lemon, orange and pine trees
that overlook the limpid and calm Tyrrean sea!
Feel the warmest breeze and breath the freshest air!
I was the boy from Campania, vibrant and restless,
exploring landscapes and valleys...climbing cliffs;
I wasn't born to be a poet, but I became one by the presence of beauty!
Lay down on a lustrous meadow and wait for the breath-taking sunset:
you'll see creation unfolding itself under brush's strokes of the Masters!
How can anyone not be impressed and moved by such a majesty!
I will lead you by hand to all the places you have never seen:
to hills and mounts towered by picturesque towns with fortresses and castles;
Naples,Amalfi,Sorrento,Positano,Ischia,Capri and Gaeta are the jewels of this pristine sea!
Take that long journey with me: you'll be utterly breathless,
and appreciate Nature with a keener understanding and dwell here like others did!
Drink the sparkling water of the purest springs and eat the fruits of my amazing land!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
I won a holiday voucher; good luck had come my way
So we put the money towards my bucket list holiday
Ever since was small I’d dreamed of visiting Italy
To view the Pompeii ruins a sight I wanted to see
We flew off to stay in Sorrento at the Hotel Caravelle
The hotel was so grand, our bedroom was really swell
We booked to go to Pompeii on an organised tour
A little minibus picked us up outside the hotel door
It took us on a trip to the local railway station
To meet our tour rep who’d fill us with information
Pompeii was so amazing, on cobbled streets we’d tread
visiting ruined houses, and seeing relics of the dead
who’d perished when Mount Vesuvius tragically erupted
bodies frozen in time when their lives were all disrupted
A visit to Herculaneum was the highlight of our vacation
I preferred it to Pompeii due to the state of preservation
The well preserved remains exceeded all expectation
I vow to I’ll return to Italy without any hesitation!
We both want to repeat a bus trip along the Amalfi drive
With the skill of our bus driver we made it home alive!
What Have You Kicked Off On Your Bucket List Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
12/04/20
Harsh are the winters
in North America and one
must drink hot coffee
or chocolate to revive
himself, not to let his bones
freeze and possibly crack.
By a window frosted with snow,
one sees mountains and vallies,
even an occasional hungry deer,
or a groaling scary grizzly bear
looking in the open trash can.
My inconsolable glance is fixed
on that white blanket when
a snow flower winks at me,
it's sadness is lack of sunlight
as we both lament meadows
that stretch under splendid skies.
Dreaming sets no limits whatsoever,
it's a boundery as infinity as space,
venture into it, excitement awaits you;
when winter refuses to leave,dream!
Perhaps tonight going to sleep,
I'll dream of the whitest sails flapping
departing for the Mediterranean Sea;
o starless night, breathing in mysterious
silence, make me dream of Sorrento
as soon as reality vanishes and dreams
begin with the voice of the young sailors
cheering...hoping to find their sweetheart!
Written on 8/11/2017
Goodbye, Luciano,
easing through death's door,
no more thy voice shall soar.
Farewell, Luciano,
no longer croon ‘O Sole Mio’
to take thee back to Sorrento.
Adios, Luciano,
unto a peaceful slumber deep,
from the world's travails escape.
Hark! Enrico Caruso,
bid the angels welcome Luciano
into the heavenly choir in the sky.
The music
is her breath,
or…wind…
into the open
bottle. The songs
of folk-lore.
***
Around her bon-fire,
embers sear the sleeve,
of her Hoodie;
The sparks
are as red
as the blood
of a burst
aneurism.
Thus...
she could have
a "broken heart".
The sparklers
in their hands,
the flames
of our Sun,
dressing
the edges...
of Sorrento Cliffs,
that think
they could
conquer
the sky.
The beach
in a dream...
melts the sea
and sky
into a flesh-
colored
palette
of all
light browns.
I said,
She listened...
I like her.
***
A chord,
of a guitar,
strummed;
a piano
played
by ear.
Meg rocked
to the melody
of her life.
Human-like
spirits...Gods…
in her eyes.
***
He remembers:
The 1940s-
a decade
as dark
as a tree
in the night…
to me.
A poet’s verse.
By
Walt Whitman.
The "Nor' Easter"
crushes...
yet...
the snow
falling:
hush...
such a
yearning
is mine.
***
Dissection…
of the sentence;
a line...
" No, this is a true story!"
The story…
as simple
as the BUD
in Spring,
as complex
as the flower,
as it BLOOMS.
Missed someone a lot,
No words nor thoughts.
Could describe how it was.
But what was the point,
When someone has already gone.
One more "hello", one more "goodbye",
For the good and the last time.
Could not believe or imagine,
How I was treated the way you did.
I love piano music sound to my ears.
You said things music to my ears,
But nothing valid.
I need time and energy to do things,
Like piano, embroidery, poetry and travelling.
So spare me with your words and promises.
All my precious time and energy
Has been exhausted.
None left to do anything else.
Long weekend is coming up.
So as the heat and warm weather.
Sorrento, Phillip Island and Apollo Bays,
Here I come, one by one and day after day.
That is what I pray.
2025.3.15
Today, I visited Sorrento back Beach.
Swam only for five minutes.
Both the swell and the current
Were too high and too strong for me.
Fortunately, the Lifeguard Mason,
Assisted me to get down to the ocean,
Where the waves were less violent.
I held onto his yellow rescue board,
Under my armbit, as he instructed.
When the perfect moment arrived,
Mason asked me to flow and then to dive,
I managed to swim butterfly style.
Mason curious raised a question
If I could do other swim fashion
He was quite amaze when I said
I could do all the swim techniques.
I had a fantastic time today
First time swam in such big waves
With the assistance by the Lifeguard Mason
From the Sorrento Surf Life Saving Club.
I sincerely thank Mason and his Life guard team.
I felt privileged and being blessed to have
Such a wonderful day trip to swimming.
I wished my friend was here with me,
To capture on video or photos
All the fun and new swimming experience.
My long weekend trips had changed and ruined,
By your early morning text messages.
On Saturday, 2025.03.08@03:08:00.
You texted me to let me know,
It was your birthday, you turned 21+ years old.
You also wanted to let me know,
The reasons why you stopped saying hello,
And all forms of communications.
I respected your birthday was a significant event,
Happily to celebrate with you,
I was willing to change my travelling trip,
With late afternoon visit to the beach,
Then a dinner at an Asian restaurant,
Nothing fancy, nothing luxury,
Just for the good time keep sake.
I thought at least, my gestures
And actions were appreciated.
To show my gratitude to you,
For helping me in my poetry's journey.
But it turned out it was all my own naive ideas,
You did not give a damn about it.
You turned the rest of my plan upside down.
My travelling plan was from Sorrento back beach,
I was happy to change it to Williamstown beach,
From Phillip Island turned into Apollo Bay,
From Anglesea into who knows where it will be.
Every where you visited,
You said how beautiful that place was.
Within two months, you hurt me twice. No more.
Enjoy while you can,
Good luck to your accommodation's plan,
I don't care if it is in Victoria or other states in Australia.
Just don't bother me again.
Merquiene a nutty layered
Chocolate filled layered
Cake
With whipped cream and
dried fruits.
Soaked in orange liquer.
With a thin blueberry tart
or thin blueberry pie.
The Trophy of the Gods
A Night of Championship
Encounters.
Wines and desserts.
After a day of hickory
and mesquites.
Might the elegance of
Night ;sort the Champions
from the contenders.
Only contention to give
Chance, to those who stand
Before the legends of Night!
Raspberry tart and mint chocolate
Ice cream.
BBQ'd Alpaca and cous cous
With lime, cilantro, rice and cumin!
Enough garlic and sour cream
to make the smokey meat
Jive with the onions, peppers
and rice!
Sweet the romance of dessert
Of crusted bluish berried
decadance
which dances reheasted.
Oh what ah night!
Sumthangs like a
Nourish Cabernet!
Sweet,Sweet sorrento
Ah via rhine Beso!