A string of foundations down the hillside
Rilled terraces and tended vine of pearly muscutel
Carved in the slopes like steps
Built up as layered soilbeds
And protected from weather’s ravages
By ancient drystone walls
Trimmed neat and bright a children’s beds –
As if by a friendly giant from a fable
And below it, on the valley’s far side
As I zigzag down, a hamlet whose wines are far headier
Than any grown in my own country
I long to roll their flavours on my tongue
This is a place where the air itself is sweet
It collects in greater densities, absorbs more freshness
And rushes out to greet me, as I approach the fountains
Here I have come to ask for peace,
To plead for it, quietly with myself alone
I shall stay tonight at the village inn and in the morning
I will walk these hill of fountains
In mercy’s tenderness.
2 replies on “In Mercy’s Tenderness”
Utterly delightful and oozing your passion for life
The night skies over Lake Garda are the most breath taking yet. I’m in deep with the Olive Riviera region…photos to follow.