Her soft Italian accent
Still haunts my dreams.
I did not know she was love.
Love had never called on me before.
Suddenly all I ever needed or
dreamed of and wanted.
was here in my waking world.

She was soft and romantic.
In the half-light of sleeping
I would watch over her.
A vigil to my sweet gentle lover.
For her *******
was natural as breathing.
She held the promise
of all her femininity
In everything she did.

She bore my children.
And gave me romance
until the day she died.
I did not understand
love until she taught it to me
with her sweetness
and tenderness.

Even in her resting place
The flowers turn towards her
feeling her warmth
even in death.

I do not need for love
to call on me again.
For love has been
and still lives in my heart.

I speak to her softly.
Each night in her native Italian
Addio, amore mi.
Farewell my love.