A vibrantly cloaked history rippling through its waters
It sits afloat like
A beautiful jewel of culture
Drawing us inward like a magnet.
Tiny bridges,
Too many to count,
As we meander through narrow streets where
A slice of Mediterranean sun glistens upon
The exquisite store facades
Calling our eye toward priceless objects.
Oddly shaped boats bobbing about in the harbour
Tempting weary feet
To stride aboard and
Quietly cruise the canal water
As the waves brush by the sides of crumbling walls.
Windows high above are prised open
For a waft of air
While softly draped voiles
Flutter through and catch among the
Potted plants on the ledge.
St Peter's Square.
Too breathtaking to quantify,
Stands proudly
As hosts of pigeons swoop and perch
Around brightly coloured market stalls.
Huge dignified columns
Protrude skyward
Towering over their surroundings
And furthermore
To the smaller islands of Murano and Burano
Both filled with folklore
And masters of their crafts.