To the Editor,

The following is a poem I generated from AI in less than 15 seconds by

typing in" Italian family - love".  As an educator for more than 40 years, this was an eye-opener.  My heart almost stopped.  We have to get a handle on this new technology. 

Back to the Future? Pencil and paper might be our only salvation to prevent us from grooming a generation of mindless automatons.  For the sake of humanity, we need action now.

In the Courtyard of Olive Trees

In the courtyard of olive trees,

Where sun-kissed leaves whisper secrets,

An Italian family gathers, their laughter echoing through time.

Nonna, with her apron dusted in flour,

Kneads memories into dough,

Her hands a bridge between generations.

Nonno tends to the vineyard,

His calloused fingers coaxing life from the soil,

Each grape a promise of shared meals and stories.

Mamma stirs the simmering pot of ragù,

Her eyes reflecting the flames,

As if she can see the past and future dancing together.

Papa, strong and weathered,

Sings ancient ballads under the moon,

His voice carrying the weight of love and loss.

Bambini chase fireflies, their laughter like stardust,

Their innocence a fragile thread connecting past and present.

And in the warm embrace of twilight,

The Italian family shares their table,

Feasting on pasta, olives, and vino rosso.

They speak in gestures,

Their hands painting stories in the air,

Their hearts entwined like grapevines.

For in this courtyard of olive trees,

Time bends and weaves,

Binding them forever as one.

Inspired by the rich tapestry of Italian culture, this poem celebrates family, tradition, and the simple joys shared around a table.

Stefano Andolfo

Warwick