Is it the terracotta walls
that seduce,
In their unfolding tones
of warmth?
Kissing the hues of sunset,
Before awaiting the sunrise.

Or their creamy
companions
a mellow support,
the architectural rhythm
of reprise.

Or columns
set in colonnades.
Where streets embrace,
And piazzas expand,
Like breathing.

Lighting in archways,
And magnificent walkways.
How gelato is always
Delicious.

By Anthony Stoker