Grandma Millie

We all remember Grandma Millie

who never did things willy-nilly.

The antipasto, a tour de force,

was simply just a starter course.

With each new course she soon brought out

I knew that I would soon be stout.

 But something grand was now in-store

surpassing all that came before:

Gourmet lasagna expertly made

leaving all else in the shade.

We all knew she was a saint

who exercised so much constraint,

for when she met her Pavarotti

she was not the least bit naughty.

Certainly not a lost Lone Ranger

cause she never meet a stranger,

Grandma touched the world with love

with direct connections from above.

My Italian Femme Fatale

I know this guy who was scrawny and tawny

for whom the girls were a big mystery.

But when he met his Anna Magnani

it started a gloriously great history.

 

All literature warns of the femme fatale

one may pass by but please do not tarry.

There certainly isn’t any rational

that you should find one to marry,

 

especially if she’s mostly Italian

and exercises along with all of the men.

Her mother gave him a saint’s medallion

 and here’s hoping its power may last to the end.

 

I’ll keep you posted on all that transpires

as each new day begins to unfold,

but up to now the things she requires

are just the ones which the good book foretold.