Smitten and Stricken

I’m so smitten

And stricken

I’m in love

And it hurts

I feel it most 

Bitterly within

The heat

Of love

My heart

My entire

Soul’s

Sizzling

And spinning

Round

And round

It goes like

A Rotisserie 

Chicken

I met her

In Rome, Italy

‘What’s her name?’

Nicole

Not Scherzinger

The

Pussycat Doll

Unlike her

She’s not

Good-looking

At all

But she

Does purr

Like a stroked

Ticklish kitten

We became

Close

Intimate

In minutes

Later

That night

Our tongues

We’re in

Each other’s

Throats

Viciously kissing

‘Ugh, gross. Sickening.

But where does she reside?’

For her

Whole existence

She’s been living

In the old district

A village

In the same vicinity

Where the pope

Visits

At Christmas

I’ll tell you this

She’s

A good cook

A natural whizz 

In the kitchen

Made us a meal

Ragu, olive oil

Splashed on pasta

As we sat

I asked her

“You appear

To be so free

Nothing’s tying

You down

You live alone

And you have 

No children

This instant”

“So I was

Wondering

If I were to

Leave right now

Would you go

With me

To England?”

‘So... did she go?’

Do you really

Want to know?

Well then, stop 

The continuous

 Quizzing

And listen

The day before

We took a stroll

In this

Capital city

Went to

Art galleries

This wasn’t

Florence

So couldn’t see

Michelangelo’s

Sistine

If we had

Been there

Looking up to

The high ceiling

I would’ve

Felt moved

To declare to her

My feelings

We did see

Some art

Though

Giorgione

Titians

And exiting

The gallery

Our attention 

Was drawn

To a fountain

Statue

Of Eros, pissing

There on the stone

Written

Were these words

This was once

The home

Of buried treasure

Obtained from 

A pirate’s cove

By the sailors of 

A Marco Polo

Expedition

The treasure chest

Is still intact

But the gold’s

Missing

Can you find it?’

Emboldened

We decided to

Become

Detectives

We deciphered

The code

On the statue

The numbers

And letters

An anagram

Which when

Rearranged

Formed a most 

Wonderful

Message

We took to 

Snooping

At the back

Of an adjacent

Building

The paint

Was peeling

We dug in

The crevices

And in the hole

Were blocks laid

On top of

Each other

In a formation

Resembling

Something from

Tetris

Dug deeper

Found a tunnel 

An entrance

I thought

“Any luck 

And we might just

 Get this gold”

‘Pardon me, but..

Did this actually happen?’

Didn’t I tell you

To be done 

With the questions?

My memory

Doesn’t serve me 

Too well

I mean

Parts are true

But admittedly

Much is

Embellished

However

The details

Aren’t crucial

It’s the

Substance

The essence

The crux 

Of the story

Is that

I fell in love

With Nicole

By this point

The fire 

Was increasing

And she was 

The one 

Shovelling

The coal

‘Bah!

This is pure fantasy

And it’s quite fitting

To say the story’s

As mythic as Jove

The god of the Romans’

Stop! 

And just hold on!

At the end 

Of that same day

We did happen

To get locked 

In a moment

Wherefore

The fire became

Hotter than 

Molten lava

But let’s 

Fast forward

To what 

I asked her

In response

She said

She needed

To pursue

Her studies

A doctorate

A masters

She said 

She’d been

Offered

A spot at

Bologna

A place on

The course

At the university

Of the city

Famed

For its sauce

But she said

To take

Her number 

And phone her

So, back

In London

And summer

Is over

I really thought

I was the one

For Nicole but

There’s no

Chance

We’ll wed

Damn

Will I ever

Find love?

Will I have

Better luck

In Paris

For example?

Should I go

To France instead?

‘Honestly, you wont

Not even in that city

So, it has to be said

That love

Is a mirage

And romance is dead’