Following the lighted ignite
By You
Feeling the chant
Constant
Never in vain
Italian coastline arrives
Like la radice
As if there
Everyday me writes
artful images,
Like pigeon pooped dotted lanes
Bricky...
Like Panigale red white
Running fast...
Like cappuccino milked creamy chocolatey warm...
Like that lotto store
Opposite Eldo...
Like that Francesco Ghirlandaio
Dropping a bow...
Like villa communale filled by children playing Micheal Angelo...
And
me finds Isabel there
Surely like a dame fair
Walking in the rain
Paper bags in her left hand,
And in right ,
An umbrella pinkish bright...
Thousand miles away
Perhaps,
Like a dream of a write mine
Like write of a dream there She shines...
(Note:~on a book written by me, set at Port Alba, Naples, Italy.)
No comments:
Post a Comment