Tuscany edit 0.003chris,billy,true

[Truerenigma]

Sweet rosemary in summer simmer breathes out myrrh and frankincense;

Myrrh and frankincense in this order is strange for me, because it's always been frankincense and myrrh. I suppose that's a minor issue though.

as though to thwart the honeysuckle, nodding in the bee-buzzed bed.
Nothing moves of leaf or flower save rose's falling petals; hence Whoa!! precipitous enjambment. AT least the fall's not too far Of course I love it.
the drift of pink and white and yellow, creamy gold and carmine red
scattered round the shade-starved shrubs, across parched grass to pine-wood fence.

This Tuscan June inflames the senses, squints the eyes and heats the blood
until a soporific solace soon becomes a drifting sleep.
Through eyes, lids closed, blue sky glows pink like newly cut soft cedar-wood. I absolutely love the sonics in this line, and the reversal of the "Y"s and "O"s in "through eyes" and "sky glows". The problem though is that "through eyes" is strange. As if one could see another way, but then you say "lids closed and it gets even stranger. I know that it's the light through the eyelids but the diction is very odd to me. Maybe it's that to me you see the light from the sky through the lids, but really through the eyes all you are seeing is the lids. Figure that one out. I don't need wood after cedar. You seem to need it to rhyme. Too bad. find a better one or forget the Rhyme
Adrift upon the dimming day a potpourri of perfume seeps
through the amniotic amber; like babes we doze as good babes should. Like babes as good babes. I love it. cloying sonics throughout but it seems to have an intoxicating effect. There is a slight yet ignored sense of danger like I'm being lulled by a nymph. Why are the lines so damn long? I'm getting dizzy; it's clear yet so thick it's almost impenetrable.

The wine has gone, glasses lie tinted; tumbled, ant-swarmed in the grass.
The bees now leave against the shadows, drunk like sailors lost on shore,
to blue-wax melt of heated sky, through stark dark Cypress fangs they pass.
Geckos freeze bemused by breezes, now that the sun has ceased its soar;
the fall to earth sends subtle signs as land and life cools down at last.

How fine to feel night air upon us; each blessed by darkness, cleansed by light.
The moon half formed in ghostly pallor, rises pale 'gainst still bright ground;
the stars hide out behind net curtains, thin as silk of hyaline white.
In Tuscany we sit to supper; al fresco, candles lit around
this cobbled band of friends in summer, like fireflies we glow at night.
Magical. I wanna go.
tectak
Tuscany
2014

Tec,

This is not any easy read. It finally does start to move and charm and move and go somewhere dammit in the close (final two stanzas). I wish you would cut it down to a (still very long) sonnet.