Was it the wine, the boredom…?
Maybe it was the season?
This is what happens with too much of something. Maybe just my crazy mind…
When in Rome…
T’was the end of a long flight to a land far from here.
The cab had dropped us fine without any fears, not even the fare could be sought to be wrong.
So we sprang to our feet, grabbing the bags from the trunk, and into the lobby the man we did greet.
He seemed a bit drunk.
Too early to check in, we had hoped for the best.
Viola, we’re in luck, the key to our new nest.
The bags again we did grab, this time a bit slower.
We pushed on the button and waited for the elevator to lower.
“Oh my”, she remarked, “It’s much too small for it all.
We’ll have to take turns. You wait here for next call”.
The room was nice. It was even pleasant, but not much for us two, our male and female presence.
The bathroom was fine, complete with bidet, but the square john I must query the designer’s propensity.
I know it’s a stretch to make these things rhyme, but I can’t expect much with my very mind.
When in Rome it’s important to do it all up; so she threw open the shutters, and screamed “we’re in luck”.
“Bon Journo”, she yelled, her only two words Italian, but looking fine in her dress, a value from Calvin.
We’re in Rome, and not home, she turned to me and said,” it’s time to go site seeing, let’s get to the Coliseum”.
The key we did grab, from our room electric clamp, so the Spanish Steps we first make, all 138.
Trevi Fountain we found in the stifling hot June, as we stared at the artistic sea-god Neptune.
Most statues weren’t clad and their good’s you could see’um. Nonetheless we went on and finally found the Coliseum.