In the Po valley.Between the river and Apennines,
once home to the finest minds,
Bologna stopped my travels..
hear..how the mystery unravels.
Beneath the porticos I walk unbound,
enthralled by the leisurely sights and sounds,
No motion of haste,
No emotion gone waste,
absorbing warmth from the sun baked ground.
Upon resting my eager steps,unprone to labour,
warm smiles invite me in to savour,
Pancetta and Panino,
and the local aperitivo,
taste buds feast on the best Italian flavour.
There I saw her,solitary and petite,
I overpaid and rushed out,with my tired feet,
I followed the girl of golden hair,
I caught glances of her eyes,a green godly pair,
body moulded to perfection by the Bolognese heat.
Gathering courage,to pray to this deity,
my words muffled when I uttered them to this beauty,
and she laughed causing her eyes to glisten,
she spoke a tongue unknown but ears listened,
words formed and flowed in elfin purity.
Taking me by the hand,she led me astray,
museums and parks,in quiet reverance lay,
though she tried in vain,
her rapid Italian could not explain,
the past and its glories,in the short life of a day.
As dusk gave way to darkness blazing,
on the roof top,star gazing,
we slept in each others arms,
we slept intoxicated by Bolognese charms,
till the morning sun knocked on my eyelids lazing.
Leaving memories and a note behind,
to never look for her,so unkind
I never expected,so I sought
answers which I caught
told me she disappeared leaving me in Bologna behind.
A few weeks later her passing remark...
caught by local made me embark,
flying on to gay Paris ..
guided by Polaris..
to seek..the eyes that leave me weak.
( to be continued...in Paris)
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