I’m lying at the beach now, I’m soaking in the sun.
I’m looking at my angel, she is the only one
whose eyes confound me, whose love surrounds me
with each breath, with each golden moment that shines like the moon over Taormina.
Closing my eyes, looking only inside
at my Karin, my woman, my bride.
who serves a subpoena
that locks my arms behind my heart and tells me clearly we soon will start
a journey, a life full of hope and promise.
I love you, angel. My dreams are tossed
like the salad we ate upon the beach, like the memory so within reach
as now.

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Tonnara Di Scopella

The full moon smiles from raven skies
and lights the world to newborn eyes
that close as gently as the last page from your favorite book.
A subtle kiss on a ruby cheek; a warm embrace that makes weak
the strong and the shortest day seems long
like those loving looks, those pages from books
written by sages, and upon whose pages
tear-stained memories stop you short in your tracks.
And then, as ever, you would always look back
with a toss of your hair and a smile on your lips,
and with a breath you would sigh and ever admit …
I love you.

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Shall I smite thee, Satan, with the right hand of truth

or heal thee with the left hand of love?

Shall I share the light that glows in my heart

or is darkness always enough

to light your path, to show the tread from moonlit forests to lovelorn wrath?

Her eyes are bright like diamonds, I confess.

Her whisper is the night’s caress.

She guides me with her thoughts and prayers

down hellish caverns, up holy stairs

where cats convene on evenings quiet.

My heart’s content, I cannot deny it.

She breathes into my dreams at night

like whispers of smoke from fire light.

And when I wake to give my weary tressses a simple shake

I smile, and all the precious while

she greets my heart with a simple wish …

upon my lips … an angel’s kiss.

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She laid her head upon my chest to listen to my heart.

She fell asleep; her dreams were deep. She loved me from the start.

The cat was curled upon my feet; he looked at me and cried

You’re only dancing on this earth for a short while.

Oh, very young. All you ever wanted is here in your arms right now.

Everything you ever loved is with you; all your dreams are in your grasp.

Close your eyes, let the angel kiss you. Sleep the deepest everlast.

For when you wake, you will carry the words of love with you.

Your path is clear and your heart is true.

Your angel sleeps, her head on your chest.

Your love for her is bluer than blue.



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I looked into the palm of my hand

and realized how much I understood;

the hand that held hers all those days

on sunny beaches, in quiet woods.

It was all in my hands and always would be;

it was out of my hands; it was destiny. It was fate.

It ran through my fingers like fine powdery sand.

It was never too soon and never too late

to take her by the hand and to kiss her;

to help her understand how much I would miss her

if somehow the world had a hand in our future

or if God had a plan that I would one day lose her.  

But I have to hand it to Him; He handled it wisely.

He showed us the truth as blessed as ivory

that through this world and through this life

this man and this woman as husband and wife

would travel, unravel all of the mysteries

hand in hand and will create their own history.

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Watch me hit that fastball far into the sky.

Watch me squint into the sun; watch me close my eyes

for just a moment as it flies over the fence that keeps me trapped

in days and nights of innocence where arms and legs were wrapped

around a dream that crossed first base and as I head for third,

watch me dig deep in my soul and listen to the word

that keeps me strong, where I belong, the word that matters more than love’s sweet song.

I tuck my chin into my chest. I give my all, I give my best.

I round third base, I head for home.

She smiles. I kiss her. I am never alone.

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Of course!

Of course, it seems that way right now. How could it not?

Of course my love for her burns bright and pure and hot

as fire from depths that she and I plumbed

like divers who nearly succumbed

to nitrogen-rich dreams and more

when we dried like kelp on some foreign shore.

And sure, my love for her goes on and on

like the skylark whose bittersweet song

seems lost in time and drenched in wine

that aged casks and old men thought were fine.

No doubt, Karin is the love of my life.

Certainly, one day she will be my wife

And we will travel a course untread

and listen to the skylarks that flitter overhead.

Of course.

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