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Quote by Dominic Riccitello

“they say sometimes you fall in love because they’re there i feel like this might have been true it might have been wrong the thing that scares me is the word might”

Quote by Dominic Riccitello

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Dominic Riccitello

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“The Winter Miles The roads of solitude grow whiter,
And stones beneath us paler,
While the green fades completely —
Ahead of us. Grey is the sombre tone we keep,
While wandering along the street
That becomes our destiny —
With each step. Our knees fall into the snow; The trembling stops at last, Here our souls will find eternal rest — In silent grace. -Laura Chouette”

PoetryPoemWinterChristmasNew YearDecemberWinter QuotesSnowflakesWinter Quotations
Author:Laura Chouette
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“Christmas Hyacinths The air grows cleaner with each sight
Of words - silver and clear -
Without heaviness and sighs. Winter closes in on each street,
That familiar place we haunted to keep,
While we hope to seek the dearest near. Frozen blossoms in trembling hands,
With shadows of blue and grey,
Counting footsteps back into the heat. The emptiness of many
Is returned in ink and choirs,
With doubt and cherish,
Crowned with blessings all around.”

PoetryPoemWinterChristmasNew YearDecemberWinter QuotesSnowflakesWinter Quotations
Author:Laura Chouette
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“I hear the train’d soprano (what work with hers is this?) The orchestra whirls me wider than Uranus flies, It wrenches such ardors from me I did not know I possess’d them, It sails me, I dab with bare feet, they are lick’d by the indolent waves, I am cut by bitter and angry hail, I lose my breath, Steep’d amid honey’d morphine, my windpipe throttled in fakes of death, At length let up again to feel the puzzle of puzzles, And that we call Being.”

PoetryPoem1800s
Book:Song of Myself
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“Oggi che t’aspettavo non sei venuta. E la tua assenza so quel che mi dice, la tua assenza che tumultuava nel vuoto che hai lasciato, come una stella. Dice che non vuoi amarmi. Quale un estivo temporale s’annuncia e poi s’allontana, così ti sei negata alla mia sete. L’amore, sul nascere, ha di questi improvvisi pentimenti. Silenziosamente ci siamo intesi. Amore, amore, come sempre, vorrei coprirti di fiori e d’insulti.”

Poem
Book:Poesie
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