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Cumulus High
Caressing air currents above fly
and of pure holiness care to bestow
spirits in poetic paths will imply,
when rain falls on our night meadow.
Amid tales and attended words,
a harbinger sings a gentle aubade,
as Sun smiles to melodius birds,
or Uranus' mizzle streams cascade.
Up there our souls maybe meet
to share a moment of absolute joy,
beatific clouds beckon to treat
a beau of your eighteen years coy.
I think his icon in cumulus forms,
will become eighteen, you to escort,
homecoming queen who responds,
with him standing tall, dance athwart.
As ulterior beauty crowns stars,
ghosts will dance in a ball of merry;
no soul will be excluded with scars,
as eligible promises, sorrows vary.
In this dance our spirits will meet
to fiddle in déjà vu where hopes fly;
noble cavalieri bestow etiquette,
to their loved dames in Cumulus High.
poem
by
Giorgio Veneto
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