Again, my Paul and I do go abroad—
Italia we stay, “Bencista,” home.
We dream of where we hope to play last “card,”
Italia we find—no more to roam.
To find each other was sublime indeed,
Another who doth love this Tuscany.
I love to write, feel peace, pray oft, and read;
My Paul, the art of here he wants to see.
We balance each in pair, o’r love entwin’d;
We find the best when each we find in truth.
My Paul, a gentle man and, oh, so kind;
N’er do we part nor seek to say, “Foresooth!”
Italia, indeed our love doth grow
In leaps and bounds we know we do love so!
6/9/2000 at Pensione Bencista, Fiesole, Italy