POEM OF THE DAY

VENI VIDI AMAVI

Sitting outside a cafe,

By a northern Italian lake. Sipping cappuccino, With panettone cake. Tapping my feet, on a Coloured cobbled Street, Listening to Pavarotti, A nessun dorma treat. Aroma from my coffee, Drifts through the air. Like seeds on the wind, Floating everywhere.

A pair of large seagulls, Carelessly Crash land. Loud greedy squabbling, for The crumbs by my hand. With a ring on every finger, And immaculate in black. A waiter makes them scatter, With his well-practised clap. A sudden crack of thunder, And a cloudburst of rain.

Floods all the pavements, then escapes down the drain. An electric flash of lightning, stampedes across the sky. I move inside the cafe, where it’s warm, inviting and dry. Inside, the old musician, Gently plays his violin. Then plays Puccini’s arias On a spruce-top mandolin. Paintings of Verona, Hang by the entrance door. Beautiful veined marble, Decorate an uneven floor. The rain is just a drizzle now, But content, just sitting here. I order another coffee, Waiting for outside to clear. It’s early afternoon now,

I’m finished and ready to go. I pay the bill with euros, a Smile, grazie and buongiorno. We came, we saw, we loved