venetian glass
shes signed by a glass blower
each piece unique
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 left behind
A m’rOus legacy surVivEd in kind
August 29, 2021
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 on a sky so blue
tourist scrambled
from the boat
sensory feelings inside emote
ambling along piazzas wide
campanile renaissance
a city's pride
byzantine palaces bridge of sighs
facias painted
in pastel dyes
gothic churches candles ablaze
carvings to draw the gaze
depicted ceilings vivant tableau
golden bedecked reredos
pizza italiano barolo red wine
relax chat then dine
'neath parasoled
courtyard shade
as gondaliers anchor
to quayside arcade
homward along canal grande
below balconies
overhanging sun-tanned
houses emulsioned terracotta bold
kaleidoscopic memories
made manifold
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.
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
oh please
por favor
i want a
day where
the sun don't
shine so i dont
have to selfishly
squint
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 breeze, O Sole Mio sings
a serenade in city lights aglow.
This hope of love rekindled miles from home,
could be our chance to dream and reminisce.
Enlightened by a full moon’s wink, we’d roam
down Grand Canal in gleaming nights of bliss.
Our renaissance, a second honeymoon -
to Venice, we could not escape too soon.
Written 3/3/17 for Where I Want to Go Contest
Peek, gentle whispers
What you seek of me, open
Your embrace, full mast
©Drake J. Eszes
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 treat,
Would a local understand we’d split
The cost of what we’d eat?
I’d be curious, in Leningrad,
If folks would start to sweat,
If I pulled a gun, suggesting
That we play Russian roulette?
In Istanbul, perhaps they’d think
That I was rather daffy
If I visited each candy shop
In search of Turkish taffy.
To Americans, such adjectives
Are charming and unique,
But I wonder if, to foreigners,
They might seem tongue-in-cheek.
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
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 that the heliotropes strove forth
Luminary, heather halos mimic gamma strength.
Plum age old interceptors, those cardinals and priests
Rage velveteen and indigo, planning sermons apiece,
Text books coloured aubergine bless a firmament lease
Like exorcists displaying ways to snub behemoth beasts.
The Grand Canal is unified as the amethysts surrounding:
Producing arch goliaths, as the buildings passing by
Shape a deep mauve battlement, twilight’s gradual high
The sheer delight of Indigo, the honeymooners grounding.
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 closing
Old thoughts will return
A warm offering
Quiescent reality
Numbing all to sleep
Brother's soft hair
Sobbing through the stagnant air
Breathing in deeply
Distant music plays
Chords of joy and pain wander
Forever reaching
Sister's loss held in
Bursting with the hope for death
Squeezing in the love
Past, present, future
Father's sad joy leaking out
Through Venetian blinds
There are no angels
Hovering where we can see
Belief quivering
God sends us no signs
Mortality challenges
At sunset right here
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 to hide my face.
My masks, though many,
behind which I hide
ebbs and flow just like the tide.
Changes it may
To people I choose, to those near my heart
to those I fear I may lose.
Years pass by
For my mask and I
Taking it off I dare not try.
Only pieces and glimpses
Of my hidden face beneath
Would I only allow those close a tiny peak
Wearing my mask
hiding my face
This I thought, would keep me safe.
Then one day
This one I did meet
This one that I knew, this one that I'd keep.
Fear filled my soul
For this one looking at me wearing no mask at all
Causing my precious masks to begin to fall.
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