Patrizia Iovine is participating in the International Literary Creation Competition, 7th Edition, from Rome, Italy and is 63 years old. We thank her for her participation and wish her success.

Contemplation						             	

And you, Love, stand there watching
in a dark corner of the room
beside two fragile hearts
wrapped in a moonbeam
trembling with fear
two hearts ablaze, pure, wild
brimming with passion.
Love,
you watch and smile:
do not startle those poor souls
happy and stunned
who chase and then evade each other
who are blissful and weep.
Love,
hidden in the shadows of the alcove
you listen to sighs, you fill silences with kisses
while feeding on ethereal and sublime flavors.
Incredulous, the burning pupils
like small flames in the wind, dance together.
The pale limbs
slipping down from a drunken vessel
set sail for Cythera
a wild and jagged island
an ideal Eldorado of breaths and chimeras.
In a weaving of dreams and reality
reality becomes a dream
and in a sea
amidst foaming waves
drop by drop
the warm bodies drown
then, together, they are lost.
And you, Love, stand there watching.


ETERNAL MOON

In the faint murmur of nocturnal calls,
blessed thou dwellest, O Moon,
and thou gazest
silent and majestic,
a Queen amidst the orbs and the stars.
Thou smilest, O mocking one,
upon the human race,
which through toils, cries, and sighs,
is swept away by the tide of time.
Thou knowest neither hours nor days;
It matters not if every face pales in an eternal breath,
for thou remainest suspended,
still there
everlasting
to contemplate both men and cities,
to harken to tongues and customs, observing
with but a flutter of thine eyelids.
Yet naught dost thou do to save us,
naught can’t thou do from yonder for us,
who linger here neglected,
while thou, alone, does wait.
Within thy vast womb, thou shalt gather our souls,
and our eyes
like kindled flames
thou shalt set beside thee in the firmament,
when here below they close upon the world.
All leaning forth from thy reflected rays,
then, at last, shall we know
what the purpose of this earthly life may be;
Thus, the essence of mortals,
and the "why"
of birth and of passing away.


Eternity in a Moment of Love

Dusting off the yellowed letters of my former lovers,
swallowed for long years by silent drawers,
among phrases never spoken
yet bravely etched in leaden ink,
carefully folded into four worn edges;
I see resurfacing amidst the memories
the Chieftain of my dreams
a pale Cupid now
who one day refused to spirit me away,
leaving me
drunken and stunned
among a thousand mournful companions:
clear reflections of my wounded soul
that slipped down from my eyes
sincere fruits
that no feeling could ever conceal.
Not a verse of love, nor a single word;
only the eternity of a kiss
in the warm twilight of the morning
had managed to freeze the present.
You fled far away after breaking my heart,
while others,
invoking my name
amidst useless sighs,
clutched my motionless body and composed rhymes.
My hand outstretched toward your dwelling
an inn for wandering souls
my eyes,
wide luminous paths,
and my wounded womb
sought you, as you spread your wings and rose,
solitary and free.
You remained within my old cabinet,
wedged between a thousand phrases of love
of which you were never the author.