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Italian Intrigue: A Quartet by R.P. Logan




Salacia


Aroused from my sleep by a distant peal

a solemn, singular measure

and catch a glimpse through the curtain lace

of the woman I prize and treasure


The moonlight kisses her raven hair

the Piazza Navona deserted and still

and whispered with a kiss to my trembling lips

I love you and always will


Below the Fontana del Nettuno

Silent sentinel on this cloudless night

Beckons the larks to sing before dawn

a melodious air to welcome the light


A trident raised as I caress her breast

on a balcony so far from the sea

A goddess in waiting, my queen for the making

So chaste, so divine, so free


Positano


In the town of Positano, that tiny jewel by the sea

Where the beach is pollinated by eager souls

Seeking that olive hue

We sought out life hidden in the alleyways

And buried in the shopkeeper’s stores

So often hidden from view


We passed on the boutiques and cafes

And fled to the harbour instead

To take pictures by the sea wall

Then climbed an ancient series of steps to the

Via Positanesi D’America

Being very careful not to fall


While the others tanned and oiled themselves

Amidst the tourist crowd

We found a cove opening on the Tyrrhenian Sea

And we swam with others seeking solace

From the heat of the September day

In Positano, that tiny jewel of Italy



Radda In Chianti


I left her softly murmuring

Enfolded in eider down

Safe and warm from the morning chill

And the fog that had crept through the town


In Radda in Chianti I stole through the empty corridors

Of ancient cobbled stone

A childhood game of hid and seek with

Ghostly apparitions, the silent unknown


Then the peal from San Niccolo

An added urgency to my flight

From the weight of falsehoods and pretensions

A life led in darkness not of light


In this commune of medieval towers

I had found a spark to an eternal flame

And as I buried deep in her eider down

Back from the mist and the rain

I whispered to her sleeping ear

Ti voglio bene, again, again and again



Cannoli


You cannoli do so much in this ancient boot

Its history layered in the dust of time

Before your skin shades to a sienna hue

And your blood blends with Chianti wine


The pastabilities are endless

Medieval rolling hills to an emerald sea

You can go a roman all over the place

From the alps to the Isle of Capri


Tiramisu for I’ve fallen

Over and over again for that smile

Ma donna I will miss you

Those eyes of innocence or guile


When Vesuvio rumbles awake

You will find me gone

But closing my eyes to dream again

I’ll see you mio amico, anon



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