The setting sun urged holiday makers
To roam around the Venice canals.
A thousand and one lamps helped
The gondoliers to find their way
As he sang a lovely love song
And pleased the lovers as they sat
On comfy cushions on the boat
Occasionally stealing a kind kiss.
Stare at the twinkling beautiful stars
Take a Pair of Sparkling Eyes,
List and learn, ye dainty roses
We're called the gondoliers
And this is our song of love.
Venice knew what love meant,
Even when they traverse the bridge of sighs.
They wondered how many crossed
To their doom. But that was ages ago.
Now the bridge was decorated with lamps.
Oh, what a beautiful sight it was.
Solitary gulls lead all to Piazza San Marco.
The lovers looked in awe at the tourists.
They paid the gondolier handsomely
And descended on to the vast square.
They found a table and ordered
An espresso and a tasty pizza.
It was expensive but worth it.
Venetian’s ombre’ sky fades periwinkle purple into powder turquoise blue.
silvery rhinestone of a star is possibly tossed down by goddess Venus
Gondoliers are slumbering with their wives as their vessels still themselves
the bay is not silent, there is tiny lapping of the waves issuing a joyful hello
Such quietude needs no extra energy of a creature, person or bird.
A lone damsel fly flits into the bay, followed by a gorgeous Luna moth.
I sit at the end of the pier feeling like the only person in the world.
Pleased and joyful that at this moment in this location at I am.
Gossamer winged gondolier airships
sail on feathered wax-clad wingtips
travelling blue transparent skies
probing boundaries transfixed on a prize
dashing darting greeting parting
flirting flurried partners charting
amplify dumbstruck daydreams with flair
animation takes wing to air
tails fly and tales spin
spotlights quarantine chagrin
vibrations brandish a two-edged sword
horizons are vistas explored
steel eyes of flint and mahogany
mirror no clouded cacophony
daydream disciples design
the silk purse
from rubble the blind decline
B310J
Narrow streets that block the light
Bridges spanning everywhere
Gondoliers in black and white
Pigeons in Saint Marco Square
Churches and Venetian glass
Synagogues from ghettoed Jews
Tourists you can barely pass
Everywhere - amazing views
Carts with vendors' souvenirs
Cool cafes to have a snack
When gelato time appears,
There will never be a lack.
Deep red berry on my cone
Next to hazelnut did mix.
Back at home I'll fret and moan
'Cause I'll miss my daily fix.
Travel opens up our eyes
To places different and unique
And every trip grants some surprise
Like my Italian ice cream streak.
The cypresses' leaves are vibrant and green, summer refuses
to leave as swallows wait for cold winds to depart;
chilly rain keeps all warblers in their nests hidden from intruders!
Yesterday's sun rays were pleasant to the senses of the dreamy mind
as we sat on the bench and cherished them for long;
evening came and clouds gathered and heard no single crickets' sound.
The melancholy of September has arrived a bit too soon,
Venice's narrow streets are deserted and silent;
rooftops drip as rain falls harder,very somber is the Lagoon!
A couple wearing long, black raincoats crosses the Rialto Bridge,
a yellow umbrella shelters them as their breaths steam;
no tourists frequent Saint Mark's Square under a sky so beige!
Sultry sky of Venice, sunlight will restore life and make you beautiful again...
pigeons will return and gondoliers will sing areas until the coming of dawn!
There’s a balcony over Venice
Somewhere outside Dallas, Texas
Through a sliding glass door
A couple sits toasting to the croons of Elvis
With paper cup chalice
Upon their European back porch
Making conversation language love
Beneath candle moon blue August
The symphony inside plays, dog barks, six children snore
“May I have this dance?”
The gussied up working stiff redneck asks
To the lady he adores
On a balcony over Venice
Two lovers sway
Hand on hand kissing even more
They dream together "moon rivers"
Between skips of old worn records
Holding on to their tender years
And tighter to homespun fantasies
More alive in the Italian Texas breeze
He twirls her on forever above smiles of gondoliers
And around their linoleum ballroom floor
Little eyes appear like starlight blinking
Twinkling out with laughter
There’s a balcony over Venice
Somewhere outside of Dallas, Texas
Where a father loves a mother, a son and five daughters
Happily ever after
Gondoliers navigate these old canals
that saw much joy
and cherished glory;
go and tell about your trades
and mischievous love-affairs,
when voluptuous women
enticed your many travels
and drove you into flaming passions...
Lambent lagoon,
impeccably domineering,
but impoverished by a loss so great...
that even the Saint Mark's bells toll in regret!
Lambent lagoon,
your lost treasures weren't lavishly spent;
they are still here hidden by sturdy walls,
and cherished by people visiting
a city trapped in its magnificence,
unable to admit its decadence...
Proud and handsome gondoliers,
row your gondolas under the splendid bridges
and sing of a glorious past
that will never come back;
these streets,squares and canals
that marked its sudden rise,
also lamented its quick dawnfall...
with the sail-ships anchored at shore!
Lambent lagoon,
I rejoice in your indelible glories
and express grief for your losses;
but your greatness is still recaptured...
to comfirm an aura so unconcealed
by the appearance of the glimmering moon!
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