Short Italy Poems
Short Italy Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Italy by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Italy by length and keyword.
ancient Roman roads
faded pathways to greatness
strong hillside grape vines
walled cities slowly crumbling
winemakers craft endures
I was thrilled to what the handsome gondolier wore
black and white striped shirt, straw hat,
red bow dripping off back of hat….
like Sophia Loren films from the sixties
frozen moon
shivered in horror
when death rolls.
Honorable Mention in STRAND CHOICE R,any form,any theme Poetry Contest sponsored by Brian Strand
Serbia and Italy were going on a nice little walk.
Said Italy “Yugoslavia is not one to talk!”
Serbia got mad.
“Yugo is my dad!”
They ended up smacking each other, quite a little squawk.
A Poet's heartfelt ode to Italy
is the murmur of the calmest sea
heard at the close of a long day;
anchored boats in the bay of Amalfi
await sunset and nobody has a plea
to escape danger, so nostalgic is Gigi!
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
Queen Johanna I of Naples
Reigned over the marriage bed
"No wife must yield to her husband
More than six times per day," she said.
And now you know the reason
Why they all died young, back then
It wasn't the spaghetti
Just cocks chasing after the hen!
Samuel Rogers 'ITALY'
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(_PASTA_)
He asked for directions
It was a train ride and a walk that mirrored mine
We were apart on the train
My minimal sociability
We met in the roar of passengers
A second offer of navigational help was given
We strolled with small introductions and talked
The ticket office prompted our fission
A Mediterranean farewell
Listen to poem:
In Rome do not do as the Romans do.
For you'll lose out in many ways.
The pizza you loved at home
will an alien be,
a fake, a fraud,
with no authentic
flavor and razzmatazz.
For such compliance,
expected in advance on holidays
begs a baseless bewilderment,
topped off with a lasting
legacy of disappointment,
when your holiday is over.
For ignorance, indeed, is bliss!
I wish to share a
secret about a
landmark I've
just viewed -
the tower of
pisa doesn't
lean it's the
world that's
sadly skewed.
Capri
roofless cubes, spidery with wire,
cakes of azure and enzian;
above at the Villa San Michele
Rilke smiles down at the broken beaches,
at coves of defiant waves, compacted sea
Pompeii
a chessboard of honest stones
open to a sky of hushed shouts;
we huddle in a boned frame
of another life, a stopped day
Napoli
warm and secret, olive-eyed
an infinite beauty makes a new face
as we gaze ape-like from our bus;
an act of moment
Waves crash down each day by day
As fishing boats dare make their way
The village square, by dawn, now quiet
as endless waves, with rocks, play riot
Then hustle and bustle, taunting streets
With men and boys from fishing fleets
Children scamper, scurrying, scream
While women weighing fish they clean
When midday sun offers no retreat
And cobblestones lie hushed with heat
Siesta silence creeps into town
Except where waves come crashing down