Tuscany
The village beyond the hill
is covered in sky
the ancient homes, squeezed between the stones
of the winding lanes
have the odor of old fables
and the taste of bread.
Vines extend their shoots up to the roofs
hot from the summer sun
with the promise of fruit
and the slim shapes of the cypresses
shine on old coats-of-arms
and project shadows
of daytime ghosts
on the sandstone.
The centuries old village strains its ears
for the faraway sounds of the azure blue
that snaps in the wind,
and the olive trees that descend compactly
the graded slopes
towards the sea of time,
adore the sun.
(Tuscany: First Prize for the collection "Tito Casini", international competition of Borgo San Lorenzo, 2001. Translated by Candida Martinelli of Candida Martinelli’s Italophile Site.)
 Mercedes Chiti was born in Pistoia, Italy, in 1942, but she currently resides in Montale, in the province of Pistoia. Every since she was a child she's written poems and stories, and she collected her work in a self-published volume Il bosco del pungitopo. Four years ago she took up again her passion for poetry, encouraged by flattering results when participating in poetry contests, both national and international. Her poetry is featured on Candida Martinelli’s Italophile Site, where Candida has translated it into English.
You can see more of Mercedes poetry at http://italophiles.com/mercedes.htm
You can also send comments to Mercedes below.
This poem Copyright ©2005 - Mercedes Chiti and Candida Martinelli. Reproduced with permission.
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Cokes, Sodas, diners, movies,
Turned up collars and poodle skirts,
Were the rage of the fifties crowd;
Changing styles came in spurts.
Sunday dinner of chicken
For the preacher and all,
In that little house of ours
Though the portions were small.
It was a time of great contentment
We were grateful for all we had
Thanking God for all of our bounty,
As the blessing was said by dad.
Oh, what I'd give for the good ole days
When life didn't hurry on.
I'd sit out on the porch swingin'
Until the dusk was dawn.
 Doris J. Niswonger - Doris is sixty-eight years old and has has been writing poetry since 1982. Most of her work is inspirationl poetry and what she observes in life.
For more of Doris's poetry, contact her below.
This poem Copyright ©2005 - Doris J. Niswonger. Reproduced with permission.
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Shimmering* in the sun* today
Beneath a deep* blue* sky*
The white* sails of a racing sloop
Upon the waves* flew by.
The sea* breeze sped it on its way.
I stood upon the sand*
And watched it, like a wondrous dream*,
Like the clouds above the land.
My heart beat stilled, my shallow breath
Became a painful thing
Until the joy it seemed to hold
Became a song to sing.
And I released the pain inside
As I danced upon the shore.
When it traveled out of sight
I dreamed and prayed for more.
Pam H. Murray is Canadian, living on the west coast, 53 years old and has been writing poetry since the 1960’s. She writes because it is the easiest thing she can do and it is her release when life gets to be too much. She loves sharing her work and has done a number of special requests over the past three years.
For more of Pam's poetry, goto her website at http://www.MidnightEdition.com/poets/rhymetimeblue or contact her below.
This poem Copyright ©2005 - Pam H. Murray. Reproduced with permission.
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