The bus swings round a rugged bend. Here’s Positano. <br />Perched under the mountains’ heavy brows, <br />Heaped treasure overflowing from a double bowl - <br />Jewels ranged on terraces, marching down <br />From la chiesa Nuova’s solid Roman dome <br />Past turrets, arches, loggias piled with bougainvillea, <br />Terracotta palaces, villas, - Naples yellow, creamy, gold – <br />Their windows drawn in white. Views unfurling, <br />Sliding, hidden then revealed – a model of a town <br />Created by a master in a mediaeval studio, <br />Drawn on gesso, painted patiently <br />With earths that Positano’s built upon.<br /><br />Janice Windle<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/italian-collection-view-of-positano-from-the-bus/
