Italy

A far-away country beckons to me 

with its rosy cities and sun-baked roofs, 

where the walls blush

at kissing couples and angels stand guard

with wings encased in ancient marble, 

castles with hearts of stone die a stubborn death,

and churches weep tears of euphoric disbelief,

and the sky is an insomniac, high

from cigarette fumes and bidden 

to tell the same silver stories every night

to the oblivious revellers basking

in the flaxen warmth of lingering sunlight.

This far-away land pulls at me

though we’re separated by an entire sea

With each passing day,

 it feels a mere distant dream

so I made a promise to a rose

and dyed it into my hair

Before the last petal falls 

I will return to these rosy cities 

that inexplicably turn all the colours in my mind

into golden sunshine