Lo Stile Di Vita Italiano

I long for the sunny days,
And Tuscan landscape.

Breezes so still you can barely feel them.

Grape juice in oak wood barrels,
And gold enhancing skin.

Love so sweet, it transforms to sugar.
Voices so soft, they all sound like whispers.

And something as plain as water,
Tastes as pungent as espresso.

Tears to drink.
Pictures to take.

We'll all get lost in the wine we make.