On seeing St Peters Basilica
My body finds love inside its sense of sight - I could stare at you until I go blind. My guarded heart looses all sense of fight wrapped inside your sculpted beauty. Oh let me find words to express things I can only feel! But can love be described in a written deed when feelings are far richer and ideal? Oh if my heart was an author then I would bleed for you. I would transfuse emotion. Your dome is love and your columns hug the way to heaven. You are light and devotion! But what is it - what is the true role you play? In my eyes you are a soft suckling kiss placed like thunder hard on our lips with bliss!
Palace of pleasure consecrated with pain, roaring like an old lioness in vain. Rampant, yet feeble of victims to slay - all power and glory has faded away. Virgins, emperors, masses, once filled your pride as orgies of tooth and steel raped inside. We see your arched walls bend with crippling care, humbled by time and rage, stripped until bare. Mother Earth tried to shake you to your knees, Vulcan ravaged with his fiery disease. Yet you have not crumbled but still remain screaming with beauty through ashes of pain. In awe we stand in your awful presence wiping our brows under the mighty sun. Gazing upward at your travertine fence, happy not to be - the object of your fun.
The Trevi fountain
Sacred waters unveiled by a virgin gush into your fountain like crystal blood. They bubble down veins, till thirst becomes sin, quenching stone in an everlasting flood. Beautiful by day, lovelier by night when water and stone give alchemy light. Neptune is your hero who steers his shell through seas heaved by Hippocampi neighing and snorting in a lunar spell. One is calm, one howls with a restless sigh, while mermen flick and guide their swinging tails, blowing their twisted conches like a trumpet to raise or calm waves deep as thunder wails. So loud, even great giants cower and fret! Boldly, Neptune waves his wand through the breeze taming the powers of the oceans and the seas. Crowds gather by like pebbles on the shore to praise your miracle of water and stone. You are Medusa seeping to the core filling eyes with beauty hardening like bone. Only a coin and a wish and a dream can return their souls back to the stream.

Donald Falconer United Kingdom

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