Giovanni di Torre Campanile
Now here is a tale from a far distant land
Where one needn't journey far to vary from planned.
A most ancient place, built UPON the sea,
But of most import, home of dead Giovanni.
At the top of the tower in this square in Venice,
Said ghost peers below with a coy look of menace,
And turns to his bird, to only he she complies,
And screes, "Salvador! Bring me their eyes!"
And down the undead pigeon swoops, a flock at her behind
Squaring the square, targeting the unlucky soon-blind.
Flapping and pecking and plucking and screams,
The fortunate wise few curled upon their knees.
Content as he was: time to return to nest,
A tinny-tin tune echoed from upon his chest,
And back they flapped to their master's keep
Takings; dripping and dangling from their proud bloody beaks.
Clumped on the floor the treasures now lay,
Giovanni, hopping and twirling, ready to play
Examined the eyes, pair by pair,
Discarding below, ones not fit for wear.
To be continued, edited, rararara....