Please give me a year in Florence. Some amazing Italian music.

Please give me one year in Florence.

I visit beautiful Florence four times in the late seventies. She left me with good memories.

I was young and she was gorgeous. I was alone and I wandered the city falling in love with the ancient city.

I liked the Italian people. Friendly and kind.

I befriended a beautiful Italian gal name Marcella. She came to me and she asked me. Why are you writing?

She had long auburn hair and eyes of hazel green. I told her. I am writing about beautiful places and beautiful faces.

She looked away from me, and she turned back to me. I wish someone would write poetry for me. I want the

sweetest and kindest words. I want to be a poet’s love. I told her. Allow me to buy you some coffee and you

can hold my hand and show me the beauty and secret places of Florence. I would write a million words for you.

She smiled and she told me. My name is Marcella dear soldier. For a million words. Maybe one kiss.

Marcella took me to the Boboli Garden. She held my left hand softly and she told me of her life. A student, 21 years old

she spoke five languages. I watched her beautiful face and I listen to her. She asked me. Do you like being a soldier. I told her.

Sometimes, you have no choice. We sat in a coffee shop, and we watched the world go by. I wrote her a poem.

” Marcella, Marcella.

Dearest Marcella, you are a dream to behold.

You are my Spring blessing,

please walk with me,

please talk with me.

Please hold my hands and make me feel hopeful and glad.

Dearest Marcella, you make Florence more beautiful.

You are a beautiful Florence flower, and I am thankful for your company.”

She took the poem and she read the poem slowly. Her eyes become gentle and she asked me.

Can I have the poem dear poet? I told her. My name is Johnnie and of course you keep the poetry.

She smiled and she told me. Johnnie, tonight we go dancing, drink some wine and we can watch the

Florence night come to us. Florence become more alive and beautiful in the evening hours.

I told her. I would thankful and she kissed my hand. Her eyes looked hard into my eyes.

She told me. I see great sorrow in your face; I see sadness in your eyes. Maybe we can find

something to replace them. I told her. Thank you, dear Marcella.

We went to the Arno River, and I wrapped my arms around her. I told her. Thank you for the perfect day.

She turned her head and she gave me one sweet kiss.

” I told her. Beautiful Marcella.

You are my Florence flower and please stay with me till the night fade into morning.

Please hold me tightly and make me forget yesterday and re-write my story.

Where love and kindness can win.

Let’s find the secret places in the ancient city and pray for more happiness.

Let’s dance in the streets of Florence at midnight.

Pray to the old Gods. Make this night never-ending.”

She smiled at me and she told me. Life is today, life is tonight.

Let’s make this our best night dear Johnnie.

I told her. Thank you, dear Marcella.

Johnnie