It was in the summer of 1963, thirty-five In the group and me.

All there to see this powerful magnet of history.

TO FULLY FEEL THE CHARACTER 0F ROME, Italy’s home,

Where ancient spirts still roam, outside In St Peter’s Square,

And inside under a nearby dome.

 

I loved being there, experiencing moments rare,

Fond memories to later share.

Things about which the world should care.

In Rome, YOU’RE IN A POEM.

 

I STOOD ON THE VERY STEPS WHERE CEASAR STOOD!

Wow, what a thrill The excitement stays With me still.

I’ve walked the subterranean rooms  at the colosseum,

A still llving, breathing museum,

Where Romans came to watch a game,

See animals wild and tame.

Thrilled by the spectacular slaughter of prisoners, Christians and Innocents,

A managed MOB of 30 000 Viewers, some subdued some intense.

Experiencing gales of laughter and vales of tears,

Shows lasting hundreds of years.

 

| buzzed around Rome on VESPAS.

Late at night, when traffic’s light,

On little red motor scooters,

With little white lights, and audible tooters.

l gobbled the food and quaffed the wine,

Threw coins In the fountain,

It was all so heady. fun unusual and steady.

 

I loved the cIty, It’s polished marble, It’s concrete gritty

Arrivie dercci and pasta fascool, you’ve won my heart,

And GOLDEN memories. Too. I love you Rome, forever  anew.

 

Copyright by Gerald J. Driessen,  Ph. D. 2019 All rights Reserved

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