I roll over on to the gondola, the <br />shine from the wood makes me rise. <br />It is no suprise, <br />as she turns, I yawn my suprise. <br />The profile is sure, smouldering to they <br />on the bridge all looking down..I bring my <br />self closer to her and move the still water.. <br />for a swans momenta stuck in time. <br />what a dumb luck of sod am I..... <br />The sun shining down on her crown.<br /><br />Is It Poetry<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-a-sod-loved-in-italy/
