Waiting Service

The smiling lady

Looks after

The invalid man

With a touch of love

The fat, and the thin

Raise my chagrin

By attempting to take

My reserved table

Master of all he surveys

The manager of this cafe

Casts a long shadow

Over all of his underlings

Now I hesitate

For no one else is here

But I must make it clear

This is my reserved table

Let me tell you

It is with some discomfort

That I turn people away

As I order myself a cappuccino

The room is now almost entirely full

Well, except that is

There are three empty seats

At my reserved table

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Winding Down

Jacques & Michelle

In Neptune’s garden

John & Sheri

In Neptune’s garden

Christopher & Kate

In Neptune’s garden

Altogether now

Altogether now

All you need is love

All you need is love

In the hotel Pendini

By the Republic Square

Listening to Rossini

Everyone who is anyone

Has visited there

Yes, it is true

I am here, with treats

Take it easy won’t you

For I have reserved

The better seats

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Master

You are the painter of silence

Yet it is not so silent here

You are here, amongst the branch

Of architecture as environment

I would have liked to sit in silence

With your painting of vases

With your quiet accommodation

Of house and nature, at one in one

Else how could I appreciate

The stillness, the calm

The distinction of a settled peace

Laid out for others to follow

Next we go to the gardens

An English artist from Germany

One of the young British school

Who defected, to make his own mark

Of course there may

Have to be vanilla gelatos

With espressos

Along the way

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Prime Ordeal

It’s not so much

How you feel

In the middle of the night

It’s not so much

How you see

As you search for second sight

All that’s left

Is all that’s left

All that’s gone before

Has gone before

It’s not so much

How you smile

When everything is alright

It’s not so much

How you squeeze

When the pheromones alight

All that’s here

Is all that’s here

All that’s new

Is all that’s new

It’s not so much

How you close

If the time is tight

It’s not so much

How you arose

When the sign said flight

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Mimicry

From the Tuscany hills

To the city of Florence

From the paying of bills

To the trials of intolerance

From the pool of azure

To the church of marble

From religion so sure

To the saints who garble

From the room without heat

To the bed with mosquitoes

From the clean white sheet

To the red blood of the veto’s

From glass beads on lampshades

To a bookcase filled with volumes

From Paul&Shark first grades

To magic bells with their tunes

From a following of Rembrandt

To a date with Captain Corelli

From a reading by Kant

To the slippers of George Melly

From horse hooves on cobbles

To a courtiers clean stables

From floors with their wobbles

To the starlights of the fables

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