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Leave behind your suitcase and Venice’s hurried pace
forgoing culture and medieval history for Dolomieu’s Dolomites~
pinnacles of dolomitic limestone chiseled into grotesque shapes
that refuse postcards—carving their own light at dawn and
gently dissolving into peaceful rose at dusk.
Their trails are old conspirators, whispering switchback secrets
to those like me who love geology, nature and
who walk without hurry.
The trails unwind like forgotten stories
each turn a new clause~
a waterfall’s asterisk, a meadow’s ellipsis:
this writer’s inspiration and paradise.
A farmhouse leans into one of the stone slopes,
its shutters laced with blushing pink geraniums.
Inside, my favorite comfort food--speckled cheese
melted over polenta, golden as an Italian afternoon.
Each peak, a vial where daylight lingers,
hoards time in geologic sieves.
These rouge-colored peaks, half-lit, refuse the night~
patient stars and poets don’t mind.
Oh she soars above the twilight
spreads her wings towards the lantern,
instinct hones towards Blighty’s bight
mind confused thinking of Skipton.
Gone the lure of tropical nights
diamond scattered heaven above,
only the cliffs of dolomites
to where here is her true love.
Waiting in anticipation
trauma the drama yet the fight,
together participation
oh once alighted from this flight.
Silver wings bare your robust soul
bring her back safely just for me,
here to play out fate’s active role
at the gate of our minds I'll be!
© Harry J Horsman 2013
They were named the Dolomites,
the Pale Mountains of Belluno,
for their limestone, jagged peaks
and shaped splintered spires;
and they're more breathtaking even without snow!
In this region, spring is so colorful and lovely
with its lilium parvum and misurina wildflowers
waving in those grassy meadows
so frequented by busy butterflies.
In the winter season, skiers,
bundle up in their warm sport's attire,
challenging their strength and curiosity;
while below, in wooden brown huts,
coffee is sipped in hot cups,
and steaming polenta is eaten with delight.
Alaska has bears and penguins;
in this region of Belluno,
the paradise of the Alps,
only cows are seen grazing,
and unbridled horses galloping
through grasslands looked above
by sleek Churches' steeples.
Climbers and trekkers follow their trials
and indulge in peace and solitude,
hoping to reach their highest peak and contemplate altitude;
that's plenty of endurance and patience to see their ego glow!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
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