Mediterraneus

Mediterranean's exotic dance, waves court tall white faced Italian shores, then sit upon the footstools that are France and wait within her ocean's cloistered doors. Once claimed by kingdoms that arose before their strength dispersed by majesty of arms, coliseums decayed, rust retrieves the sword, Phoenician horns no longer sound alarms drowned in the depths which internalize her charms. I walk upon the shadows of her wake; my footfalls silenced, stolen by the blue, and glance upon the islands of her lake, Corsica and Sardinia come to view. I taste the wine her ancient vineyards grew, rich olives purple nuggets of her soil pressing the golden liquid flowing through my veins bared by the years of human toil anoints my spirit with their aromatic oil. The gods of plenty irrigate her grounds, cornucopias poured by outstretched hands freed by praise from their planetary bounds frolicking in mirth on her fertile lands; Europe, Anatolia and Levant, North Africa, Macedonia, Greece bathed in the breadth of her untiring bands, island civilizations, Cyprus, Crete, their banners dressed Alexander's conquering seat. Augustus named her 'Mare Nostrum, Our Sea, ' until Rome's ultimate fall and decline concepts of man, empire and dynasty temporal precepts waste away in time. The flavor of aged Neapolitan wine's hearty grapes sweetly settles on my lips, beautiful Campania seeks out my mind as I hoist the sails of my fading ship I give Mediterraneus a farewell kiss.