The bus swings round a rugged bend. Here’s Positano. br Perched under the mountains’ heavy brows, br Heaped treasure overflowing from a double bowl - br Jewels ranged on terraces, marching down br From la chiesa Nuova’s solid Roman dome br Past turrets, arches, loggias piled with bougainvillea, br Terracotta palaces, villas, - Naples yellow, creamy, gold – br Their windows drawn in white. Views unfurling, br Sliding, hidden then revealed – a model of a town br Created by a master in a mediaeval studio, br Drawn on gesso, painted patiently br With earths that Positano’s built upon.