Short Tuscany Poems

she held back with all her might
until her heart of stone
melted under a tuscany moon



AP: Honorable Mention 2022

Posted on June 6, 2022...

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Cedars line ancient Tuscan roads.
Vines reach distant hills.
Bent couple slowly walks.
Hills pose no barrier.
Pear lovingly peeled.
Cheese and figs unwrapped.
Wine poured.
Words unspoken.
Time stopped.
Sixty seven years....

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Clarity from a medallions dream 
soars beyond all nurturing memories, 
with silky smooth canary comfort 
from a golden sun risen morn'-
you've stayed with me through Tuscany, 
morning daffodils are blooming,
with honey bees, sweet pineapple breeze, 
emerald dandelion fields keep on rising.




~Date Written: March 1, 2016~...

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radiant purple 
gospel red
with
bold yellow tulips
reach for the sweet sunlight
picture frames of beauty
adorn 
the 
grassy hills of Tuscany 
and
what ever becomes of
this 
magic love parade
are 
the fancy white 
and
fragile yellow daffodils
if 
we make 
our
presence
in
this world
a tapestry
through
the
bright hills of Tuscany...

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I can’t help but think about  
The way things used to be
Those carefree days of childhood
By the river of Tuscany

Children caressed
By the island’s sun
Frenzied by its crystal shore
Totally unaware
Of the danger that was before

The storm came suddenly
The merry bunch dispatch
All but Johnny
Who was submerged
By the hungry waves of Tuscany....

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Oscans, Ligures and the Apuli as known
Ancient Greek, Samnitics,  Sicanis and Celt
Indigenous tribes, one people with love grown
Capodanno Fiorentino o'er lands dwelt

Wine appellation of Sangiovese as shown
Wreaths and lanterns over folklores shine not welt
Carrara marbles as buttress of stronghold
With arts and culture, graced with norms of the bold...

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His eyes cannot perceive the smiles and tears
On faces touched by artistry of voice,
Yet when he bares his soul in ardent song,
The rolling hills of Tuscany rejoice.
Exotic passion shatters static space,
To sing or not to sing was never aired.
Romantic, operatic or berceuse,
Bocelli's voice was gifted to be shared.


07/01/19


Sing it poetry contest sponsored by Nina Parmenter...

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The cypress trees stand sentinel,
Protecting all the vines
So all who visit Tuscany
Can drink those lovely wines.

A walled-in city dating back
For seven hundred years
Holds ancient secrets filled with life's
Exuberance and tears.

We stroll the streets and marvel at
The remnants that survive,
Imagining inhabitants 
Once vibrant and alive.

We gaze out at the scenery,
So lush and manicured,
With cypress trees on guard
So future tastings are assured....

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At the flower market
I found spice, holy water,
cobblestoned obsidian dreams,
but no flowers.

The blustery Tuscany day
showed me its underlying graffiti,
incantations of poetica esoterica, 
and yet another way 
to excavate the mystery.

Nostalgic Roman nights, 
Spanish palabras, Sicilian incantations,
idyllic panoramas; promises 
enough to purchase the moon.

Such a foolish sacrifice to
fresco up for portfolios in 
sanctuaries precious 
and profane....

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We are hanging hams, are we
in cellars off the coastal sea
licked by Mediterranean breeze

or foot-smashed grapes in Tuscany
afloat in oaken barrels, we
as flavors gain complexity.

Everyone is clever, everyone is bright
We are salt and we are light

We're the craft of chocolatiers
(from Switzerland with warm
hands on cold mountaintops.)

We are slowly sipped espresso.  We are chopped mint.

We indeed are crème brûlée
formed by hand like potter's clay....

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The afternoon outlined. The sunny strokes
of a samurai blade on her body
revealing things the eyes feign see.
Tempted, wounded, the virgin parchment floats
between her skin and satin cloak.
Artist; afternoon, craving company
draws her inside-out so innocently,
on purpose leaves the yolk indwelling.

The painter in the corner moans,
he jealous of the afternoons artly
sensual oration.
Improving skin, bare olive tones
of subtle pastel, the moment partly lost
to the constellations....

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