Italy is mine

Yesterday evening, somewhere in Paris. Since my childhood, my gaze is naturally intrigued by the strangest things, images and written words I notice around me, and I am particularly fond of involuntary humour and other curious things, like this wonderful trompe-l'œil. Resized photo taken by me from a café in front of this Resthorrorant. Of course, I would never want the people in this building to die, but I dream of a world where meat and dairy were a bad memory from an emba

Three Dogs at Home Loaded with Energy And Happiness Rushing in the Garden Like Children One comes back to Me With Sparkling Eyes and Grabs my Hands Waking up, going out Three Dogs outside Wagging Tails for Joy Like my Dream Enjoying the Sun So Warm and Kind In Autumn One kisses my Hands And He doesn't want To leave Me Vera da Pozzo Somewhere in the North of Italy 29th October 2026 Poem above written by me on a whim this afternoon; photograph below taken by me last August, exa

You came to Me again last night -- Birds of Paradise, vivid blue t-shirt - And here You are again, with your Smile And your wondrous, beautiful Eyes, Enlightening the Night and my Dreams With the Purest Joy that You always bring Even in the Darkest Depths of Sorrow When the Soul seemed too frail to fly high To YOU Vera da Pozzo Somewhere in the North of Italy 6th-7th July 2026 Poem above by me - as always, without Artificial Idiocy. Pictures below by me, taken yesterday in th

"Take this Rose: Put it in Water and Pick another Rose, Give it to Him and Keep the Other For Yourself" Said the Mysterious Messenger With his peculiar, familiar Accent In my Hand, Rosebuds And Blooming Peonies Pink as Baby's cheeks From and to You It happened Once It happens Twice And I know well that It's not just a Dream To YOU Vera da Pozzo Paris, 18th January A. D. MMXXVI Poem above and picture below by me. (C) Vera da Pozzo (C) Italy is Mine (C) Italy is Mine and It owe

Like a Flash in the Morning You enter in the Bedroom Slamming the Door But I can't see Your Face: You are White and Bright As a Lightning...

Per grazia ricevuta. One year ago, on Saint Patrick's Day, On the threshold of the Morning, When the Night was dying And the Dawn wasn't...