A View From the Villa
Casa Fantone
Poppi, Italy
Casa Fantone
Casa
Fantone, we hear your calls
Flowing
forth from fortress walls.
We
listen to your fire’s roar,
And let
our hearts prepare for more.
We
embrace the life of the valley below,
Follow
the River Arno’s flow,
Savor
the taste of wondrous wines
Coaxed
from the fruits of ancient vines.
But we
heed the call of your fire’s roar
And
return to let our souls restore.
(front view)
(rear view)
Casa
Fantone, a 300 year old farmhouse that has been remodeled and updated,
was our home away from home for a week. It sleeps at least 12 people
and has modern kitchen and bathroom facilities, but it still gives one
the feeling of stepping back in history. For instance, we discovered
an ancient baking oven on the terrace which I am sure could hold at
least 20 pizzas at a time! If only those walls could talk . . .
Warm Memories
An
ancient oven built of stone
Waits
on the hilltop all alone.
It
whispers the history of long ago
As the
village of Poppi wakes below.
“Gone are the bambinos of yesterday,
Their
cries of delight as they romp and play
Amidst
the shadow of olive trees,
And the
laundry waving in the breeze.
Gone are the nonnos, napping in the sun,
Waiting
for the smell of a new baked bun.
The
lengthy lines on their furrowed faces
Speak
of their youth and faraway places.
Gone are the nonnas, kneading the dough
Then
letting it rise in the fire’s glow.
They
chatter and chirp like hurried hens,
Clucking while cleaning their precious pens.”
Yes, an ancient oven built of stone
Waits
on the hilltop, all alone.
Everywhere we looked in Poppi we saw laundry hanging out to dry, some
of it attached to intricate pulley systems from one window to another.
Quilts and rugs hung on balcony railings to welcome the refreshing air
of a sunny day. We were no exception up the hill in Casa Fantone . . .
Buon Giorgno!
Clothes
on the line,
Waving
with the breeze,
Calling
“buon giorno” to the olive trees!
The Dolce Vita
(The
Sweet Life)
Tiled
roofs and cobbled streets
Echo
the sound of strolling feet;
Houses
built of native stone,
Bright
colored flowers, nurtured and grown;
Shutters of green, thrown open some days
To
welcome the warmth of the morning rays;
Pastoral pastures, wagon loads,
Traversing the narrow, winding roads.
Life in
Poppi is serene and slow.
Just
stop and listen, and then you’ll know!
Morning Market
A
shopping basket on her arm,
She
buys the harvest from the farm.
Olives
and onions, chunks of cheese,
Honey
gathered from hillside bees,
Salami
and sausage and pasta and more.
What a
feast we have in store!
Hospitality
Brown
eggs in a basket,
Prosciutto and bread,
Two
bottles of wine . . .
We’re
full and fed!
Flying in Fantone
Two
little girls, swinging in the breeze,
On
hammocks hung between the trees.
There’s
nothing like a Tuscan day
To
swing and sway the hours away!
Two
little girls, swinging toward the sky,
Captured by the feeling that they can fly!
