Utopian Mirth
Sea waves spelled aright hours on my path;
I thought: Beguiling is the ocean, my Lord,
White pebbles on shore on a widest strath,
Between me, lone stars and an harp's chord..
Sea waves responded; a well crafted pate,
of foam and pine needles, so I became a tree,
Crowned with my words' string, a freight,
To carry on forever, with free wind and sea.
A tree with his evergreen bowed branches,
To accompany north wind's utopian mirth,
Accord of solitude, on draft modes attaches,
Stringing notes of return to a comely berth.
Zephyr spells estimable calls and breathes,
Upon my orisons, entreaties and retentions,
And I am an iron boat rusting amid wreaths,
Perceiving goals, gallivants fair excursions.
I am an iron boat dreaming of salutary trips,
Your wharf smiles is my reason to arrogate,
Amid the winds and our love moon eclipse,
Assign your name, my depart to designate.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
