There was once a tiny island
With a charming italian villa.
Beautiful beyond man’s simple words
To describe, and wrapped in a
Sea of Cobalt blue.
A beautiful young woman tended
Everything within it,
As well as a garden, surrounded by
A sturdy wall for leaning against
The young woman’s voice could often be heard.
And as she sang and cared for the garden, she charmed
All of those who passed by and who then longed
To posses everything within the sea of Cobalt blue.
The story is told of an older man who often
Spoke with the young woman at the garden wall
Taking in her smiles as he listen to her speak.
The older man knew little of the visitors
That would come or of the villa itself.
But after a time fell in love with the woman,
And longed to see her and hear her voice,
Dreaming that the young woman loved him too.
That was some time ago, and time has passed.
The villa windows are shuttered now,
And the garden has been neglected.
Few people speak any more of the
The young woman and the older man from the past
Whom they all had thought of as lovers.
There are no voices now from the dark rooms of
The villa… but those who knew of the two lovers
Speak now of petrified roses in an empty vase
That slowly dance when the house sighs, and of
The wistful voice of a young woman that lingers at night
Singing at the garden wall when all the rest is silent.