The Gulf of Poets
Sand coloured rocks standing still,
the navy blue ocean lapping;
Sparks of emerald green,
the water shimmers in the Italian sunlight.
Teenagers swim and shout,
their laughter rings;
against the cloudless blue sky,
their joyous conversations their own;
private and unknown.
The castle watches over them,
always present;
it’s many centuries past,
its eyes have seen it all.
The yachts dock,
wealth sings from them;
long, lazy days of sunbathing,
champagne at sunset.
A multitude of accents heard,
the tourists walk hand in hand;
their salty, grilled seafood perfuming the harbour,
they gaze wistfully at the same ocean.
Sharp cliffs draw them all together,
ties them to their origin;
the purpose of their beauty,
The gulf of poets.