IF YOU NEVER KNEW MY FLORINE

Soon after we met,
I cut to the chase.
I took Florine to meet her.

There was a diabolical method
to my madness.
Meet her,
and be introduced
to me again
for the first time,
and want more.
Know her,
and she would want to know me forever.

It wasn't fair,
but I offer no apology.
This was seduction on a grand scale.
I was smitten, and Florine was predestined.

With a wave of her wooden spoon,
my mother Mary,
Mom to my brother and me,
Mrs P. to my friends,
stirred the sauce as meatballs danced
through green shadows of basilico
to the bubbling echoes of Italy
foaming in a river
red with enchantment,
drenched in history and mystery.

My mother,
a lady of grace and dignity,
was a mother to all
who were in need
of unending tenderness
from a tranquil heart.

Few were exempt
from the quiet strength that encircled her,
like peaceful shade
on a cloudless afternoon.
Florine was no exception,
and neither was I.

She was enthralled
by my mother's many charms,
and my mother was equally captivated
by this amazing woman
whose purity of spirit
did not arrive unnoticed.

We came into our own that day;
we were connected...
and our destiny was changed forever.
We knew each other now,
and would never be complete
with anyone else.

I have a lingering sadness for those
who never had the priviledge
of knowing my mother,
but the best of me is a reflection of her,
and those who know me,
know her.

But for those friends to come,
who never walked and talked
with my Florine, who were never
branded by a smile that shone like fire,
or a laugh that rose from her soul
and pulsed in the wind...

I look forward to knowing you,
but if you never knew my Florine,
you will never truly know me.

You will never know me.

© JOHN PISCATELLA