10/6/2021
green clouds of olive groves
adorn the mountains of my home
an azure carpet keeps it all afloat
treaded by boats big and small
moved by the feral winds this isle is known for
that carry the scent of the pale summer rose
all the houses white and blue
reflecting the sun on a hot afternoon
and yet oftentimes the mayhem of the city is missed
the daily melodies produced by mundane activities
shoes splashing on rained on and sunken sidewalks
tires kissing the tired and grey asphalt
subway trains that travel loudly through dark tunnels
even the sounds of the ticket machine
everything in a chaotic but perfect harmony.
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬ᵖᵒᵉᵗʳʸ
Poetry𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨 (n.) 𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘤 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦, 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯; 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘻𝘰𝘯 Poems posted daily, for every day of the year. Works of an undefined theme with a touch of fantastical elements as well as a healthy dose of r...
