I wandered where the vines grew thick, The sun was sinking in the west, The cypress stood like men at prayer, When she appeared upon the crest. She carried water from the well, And held the cup out with both hands, I drank. Our fingers touched. She smiled — a smile I didn't understand. In the quiet of Tuscany, I found a love I didn't see, Under vines and ancient stone, She made this stranger feel at home, We let the evening take it slow, Now I never want to go. We walked the path the Romans knew, She named the trees, she named the rain, She named the hill, the well, the road — I only spoke to learn her name. I came here from a farther shore, I brought one name and nothing more. No map could mark the road I crossed, I found the place by getting lost. She never asked me why I came — She poured the water. Asked my name. In the quiet of Tuscany I found the life I couldn't see, Under vines and ancient stone, She took the stranger, made him known, I say her name now, soft and slow — And I have nowhere else to go. I never want to go… Tuscany, be my home… She said my name — and I was home. © 2026 Synkov LLC. All rights reserved.
