Love Not Blood
The shadow cast by twilight's breath,
A tale transpire, of life and death.
A refuge boy, adrift and torn,
From distant lands, in agony borne.
To Italy's shores, he finds his way,
Where ancient mutters softly sway.
Betwixt the olive groves, he's found,
By the hearts that beat with love unbound.
A grandfather, with eyes so wise,
Where sorrow dwells, and joy defies.
His children gone, to foreign lands,
He takes the boy into his hands.
In alleyways where whispers sigh,
They walk, beneath the azure sky.
The old man's love, a beam bright,
Guiding through the darkest night.
In vinery green, they find their rest,
A refuge in a world oppressed.
For in the embrace of love's refrain,
The refuge boy is born again!
Through labyrinthine streets they roam,
In search of comfort, not of home.
For blood may bind, but love endures,
In hearts that kindle sacred fires.
In Italy's embrace, they find their place,
Where love not blood, embellish their grace.
The refuge boy, now grown and wise,
Beneath Italian skies, he thrives.
Copyright ©
Gisli Nair
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