Imperial highways consul thought,
of an Empire that once shaped
and wrought havoc on my lands of
Britannia. And they called us barbarians.
 

Columns fall, the marble erodes of

the conquests of old. Etched into history.

 

Every building is not spared from,

decor – elaborate design

to amaze the best of philosopher’s minds.

 

The crowds throng past

fountains, statues and other stony might,

of Emperors past and present who

incorporate their egos into sight

deep in the masonry of illuminated light.

 

Crimson red and bronze, gladiator fights,

mighty Coliseum glory,

give thought to battles

Bloody and gory.

 

A thirst for power – in Rome’s past hours

and to think that they could flood

the floor for mock naval splendour

and then debate at the forum

the concepts and the grandeur.

 

The rise and fall, the fall and

and the rise of pizza, spaghetti

And espresso delights and castrated

masculinity of kings long gone.

 

The swords and the spears give way now

to school trips and new economic fears

Rome Oh Rome.

All roads lead from it

Rome Oh Rome

A museum with a pulse beating through it.