Pasquale and Me

Ode to Pasquale

When the music hit my ears, the beauty of it put me in a trance:

Each note was light and gentle, like the perfect mattress.

Once my eyes first fell upon you, your appearance cast a spell on me;

Tall, kinda muscular, and very handsome: the gentler Italian equivalent of Gaston.

Maestro Pasquale Esposito, one of the many jewels in Naples' crown.

When you laughed during "Vesti La Giubba," my heart began to melt,

Like a drenched Wicked Witch or the white winter snow in mid-March.

After the sooner-than-expected death of my friend, I felt down and depressed:

During the funeral reception, I tried to act like Pagliacci, hiding all the pain.

But it would've been no use, for he was such a friend to people like me.

In desperation to find a reason to forget my loss, I sent a fan-email your way,

Not thinking about how soon you'd respond, I would patiently wait for it.

Sure enough, when I checked my email the next morning, I couldn't hold it in!

There, in bold text, were the words "Re: Email Form pasqualeesposito.com."

I clicked it and giggled when you said, "Thank you and nice to meet you."

Your email brought me back to the world I was in when I first saw you,

But only better, because I strangely felt like you cared for me.

I was shocked that you would take time out of your busy schedule and reply,

But either way, I thank you for making me very happy since that day.

For if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have loved Caruso's songs.