Mediterranean

Mediterranean

by Marshal Gebbie

Cabana, cheese and mustard sauce 
Do grace the tablecloth, 
White puffy clouds and warm south breeze 
And joy in chilled ale's froth. 
Hot sun doth bake these stony walls 
Sweet mandolins do play, 
And the pigeons peck at breadcrumbs caste. 
And all fares well today. 

Young darting men on Vespa's 
Ply their arrogant good looks, 
And those stunning senoritas 
Strut their stuff while momma cooks. 
Monsignors in scarlet robes 
Do scurry through the town 
Dispensing Catholic action 
To any soul who is around. 

Madonna's guard the roadside shrines 

Where hot seal winds aloft 

Toward the craggy mountain pass 

And pastured alpine croft. 

The peasant woman bends her spine

Trudging forth with strain, 

Wood f*****s piled upon her back, 

Up hillward bound with pain. 

Old men sit and ruminate 
And watch the young girls pass, 
Whilst nursing dark retsina 
In an opaque thimble glass. 
The olive trees look stately 
In their crooked ancient way, 
And cast a darkened shadow 
Where the roosting chicken's lay. 

And out across the mounded hills 
The patchwork quilt of farm 
And out beyond that deep azure 
Of Italian coastal charm. 
Seaward to horizon 
The aqua blue intense 
Extends as far as eye can see 
Mediterranean immense. 


Marshalg 
@theBach 
Mangere Bridge 
23 January 2010