Geoffrey Fafard

Trequanda - Poem by Geoffrey Fafard

An Australian girl married to an Italian in Cairns once told me that I was using the word Prego in
the wrong context.I complimented her on her alertness 'Grazias' she answered 'Prego' I replied….

In Trequanda in the church
Of Pietro e Andrea there lay
Beata Bonizella for the world
And me to see
Bonnie of the bees I called her
(And thats another story)
Little Saint Bonnie in a shroud
Dead for seven hundred years
Good long rest she has had
Just waiting for me
To come gaze
Her shroud is clean
her face small
I hope her back is not sore
Lying so still for so long
Strangely simple thoughts
Come to me here quietly
About Bonnie the saint
I would like to hold her hand
I would like her to talk to me
Of her life in 1350
'Don't take the children in'
Advised the old man
Running the cafe
'She was seventy when she died
And then in1550
A swarm of bees led them to her
She had a baby in her arms'
'Bah humbug' commented
Someone listening in
But did I take the kids in?
I will let you figure!

Poet's Notes about The Poem

Ah Tuscany once, twice.. Thrice? With a little l…

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Poem Submitted: Monday, July 21, 2014

Poem Edited: Monday, July 21, 2014

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