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(Athens, Greece)

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Bergamot


The ridge beyond defined his scopes;
on his Elysian fields both laughed;
white smile of roses while she asked,
if she could stare at him on slopes.

A gypsy climbed beyond the ridge,
where nothing was but white thin clouds,
a bergamot and his mind's doubts,
have passed across his soul's time bridge.

The gypsy watched clouds' forms disperse,
in air the town was hung and Halls
with dancers' smiling saddened souls,
- conceived the image, brief and terse.

Amid the dancers, courtly laced,
a graceful Princess smiled to him,
the bergamot was there to hint
that this transmittance was space-braced.

Beyond the ridge white Angels roamed
(or were the clouds that turned to rain?)
the bergamot sung a refrain,
on slopes cloud dancers only domed.

('-The gypsy jumps above the ridge,
the gypsy laughs while dancers bow,
the splendid waltz transmits their glow,
a Princess waits upon time's bridge.')

Unspoken was she and the crags,
returned the bergamot's refrain;
Oh, her beatitude's soft rain,
washed down the slopes his verses sung.

Submitted: Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Edited: Sunday, August 04, 2013


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Poet's Notes about The Poem

© 12-12-2012, G. V., All Rights Reserved

An Iambic Tetrameter poem.
All of my poems are Officially Copyrighted.

Comments about this poem (And This Rain by Giorgio Venetopoulos )

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  • Patti Masterman (12/15/2012 8:02:00 PM)

    The last two verses are really wonderful, Mr. Giorgio. Like a sunshine on the fullest day of summer.

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