Categories > Original > Poetry
Italy
0 ReviewsItaly is a beautiful place.
Masks and glass and leather
A villa so old it's beautiful
A towering dome that touches the sky
Food that never leaves one full
Water coming up as it comes down
And all the glass and all the masks
History standing shoulder-to-shoulder
With today's people and their unhurried tasks
At night a traveller stops to sing
As his wife begins to dance
At night two brothers scare two girls
And are the fuel of later rants
The gods, the boar, the golden locks
And a city fallen into nature
The smell of smoke, the tinge to Coke
And though painful, memories rapture.
A villa so old it's beautiful
A towering dome that touches the sky
Food that never leaves one full
Water coming up as it comes down
And all the glass and all the masks
History standing shoulder-to-shoulder
With today's people and their unhurried tasks
At night a traveller stops to sing
As his wife begins to dance
At night two brothers scare two girls
And are the fuel of later rants
The gods, the boar, the golden locks
And a city fallen into nature
The smell of smoke, the tinge to Coke
And though painful, memories rapture.
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