Fabulous Firenze Festeggiamento

BoboliGardens

 

Across the Ponte Vecchio, behind the Pitti Palace,
we are meeting tonight in the Boboli Garden.
We enter the Grand Theater to the strains of
Vissi d’Arte from Tosca. Lights twinkle on the terraces,
The tables are laid, and the poets are gathered.

We greet each other with glasses of Prosecco.
We’ve arrived from around the world this anniversary.
We are feasting on ghazals and waltzing triolets;
the rose-scented air releases quaterns and nocturnes.
Some set villanelles to sail on the pond,
there are calls and responses in elegant haiku,
and at once we are singing sonnets while the
free verse flows from fountains on the lawn.

The aria changes to Muzetta’s Waltz, as we find new partners to
stroll the topiary mazes. We are celebrating poetry
as the summer moon sends its glade to light our
evening of song and dance munching on meter and rhyme,
picking at salads of rhyming couplets.

Scattering punctuation marks
that once held up our hair, we gambol on the grass
making art out of stars and napkins
crafting soft sonatas from friendship.
Toasting the excellence that is ART here
in these sculptured gardens surrounded
by the Duomo, the Davids, Venus Rising, La Primavera and
we find the shades of Botticelli, Michaelangelo, Giotto
DaVinci, Verocchio and Donatello joining with us when
the score of E Lucevan Le Stella lifts us toward the sky.

© Gay Reiser Cannon * 7.17.14 * All Rights Reserved

Countess of Strength

Vittorio Emanuele II Monument in Venice

for Sophia Michelle

Beside her phantom lion she surveys
her vast domain; its lurking dangers stilled.
She summons her abilities and waits.
A Countess whose reserves of strength and will
have earned respect from all whom she has met.
Her carriage and her mien disclose her aim
to care, protect and act, without regret,
against those foes who would attack her claim.
Her family prepared her for great tasks.
They nurtured confidence through each success.
She flourished as she grew; she never lacks
the grace to share her strength through skilled finesse.
A paragon of womanhood, she stands
a citadel of courage, heart and hands.

© Gay Reiser Cannon * 7.14.2014 * All Rights Reserved

Ode To My Fellow Poets

red_rose

your poems are leaking your life
and heart’s blood through cyberspace

oozing binary strings, stops and starts
of emotions, images, and history

before the half-life decay,
I am receiving you across the space/time continuum

your thoughts flow in code, they pump my heart
drip through me with arterial insight–

inspire me with sensual repetitions
your driving life-source pours into mine

your algae spreads, your grass grows,
your flowers dance to transform time

their pistils and stamens glowing
through your words, into my atmosphere

your rant of injustice roars
through jungle bits&bytes to my mind

your desire for fairness justly frames
as the pen of truth triumphs over deceit

I leave a church following the bread-crumbed path
you left in rhyme that leads to the good that connects us

your sensuous data proves though we are mini-
microbes in the universe, we are vast galaxies on the inside

your imagination rises moonlight huge, a monolith as
its power transforms, translates, transfers your essence

across time and space to me providing capsules
of intuitive understanding linking us

your inspiration reorders the centers of my thinking
your delivery births my inventions

your music rings the spheres like bells
that will peel down from age to age

© Gay Reiser Cannon * 07/08/14 * All Rights Reserved
A rewrite of a previous poem. Hopefully this is clearer and better achieved.