Best Venetian Poems

the light breeze
   cooled the morning sun
daytrip Venice
            had begun
vantage views
       from a vaporetto
inch-by-inch
 the skyline began to  grow

St Marks cameinto view
etched   ...

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A gondola floats o’er romantic tides
as you and I caress Venetian skies
laced deftly in exalted stars applied 
by brushes dipped in hues of lover’s eyes.      

A kiss beneath Rialto Bridge in spring
feels like our first so many years ago.
On every...

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Peek, gentle whispers
What you seek of me, open
Your embrace, full mast

©Drake J. Eszes...

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Tuscany beckons
Wandering minds traveling
On the sun's last rays

The pale flesh glowing
Mother stirs from her closed bed
She slides to a stop

Where is she going?
When will the awaited day
Arrive for our sakes?

Letting go is real
Cry, celebrate, or wishing
Through it all we wait

Touched by the angels
Her heavy eyelids...

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Since time of old 
From times gone by 
My mask is worn by and by. 

Days become months 
Months become years that are preciously dear 
My mask my mask please always be here. 

To many a people 
Through many a place 
My mask I wore...

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Gondolas thrift contently upon a gentian violet
Thrown from dusky sunsets on a marauding wake  
Adopting Venetians transpose as the partake;   
Sip mulberry wine to toast the ultraviolet.

Cerulean skies, inundations, surge the amaranth 
Spray lavender with a mauve bouquet of backcloth;
Bear a pigmentation...

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I wonder if the homes in Venice
Have Venetian blinds;
Or if their window panes are topped
With shades of different kinds?

Are English muffins eaten
By the British with their tea?
Would Parisians recognize French toast?
I doubt they’d answer “Oui!”

If, in Amsterdam, I told you
That our meal would be Dutch...

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Levels horizontally fixed
angles of light are tightly fit
geometrically spaced slats
fragmenting our perception flat

Narrowed slits squinted view
awkward sight for most in lewd
unaware of drawstring near
lifting veils vision clear.....

Trapped below the shadow of self
angled heights obscuring shelf
empty pantry up above
as lower self continues shove...

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When I was just a very young boy
About six or maybe seven years old
I tortured my teacher in the classroom
By never doing what I was told.

They didn’t have any classification
At the time to put me in a box
It’s not so much that I hated to...

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C ascade of women fLowed through his hands 
A rdent adventures - his lIfe long plans 
S triVing for social perfection
A chieved by means of an ******** 
N eeDless to say hoT Venetian genes 
O bviously justified the means 
V ows of a great Lover...

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Mysterious masks.
Motives suspected.
Whispered invitation.
Dance confirms intentions.
Low hanging Venetian fog
floats through narrow streets.
Distant music from St Mark's Square
drifts to rooms above.
Feelings unmasked.
Gondolas rock softly....

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oh please
por favor
i want a
day where
the sun don't
shine so i dont
have to selfishly

squint...

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venetian glass
shes signed by a glass blower
each piece unique...

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Mesmeric gondola ride
Hypnotic lull 
Water barely moving
Dipping and dripping
With barely a sound
Beauty of silence
Gently trailing my fingers under the water
Utterly relaxed
Luxuriating in God’s beauty
Italy’s loveliness
Coaxing me into a gentle nap...

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