Agriturismo La Presura Villa Strada in Chianti

Review by hotel critic

A delightful experience. My prior R'n'R at mature resorts revered the static ease of established norms: beds the exact stiffness of morning cards read on vacation newspapers. And then, there was La Presura. Olive groves and a fruity wine tarnish the leisureway through the forest, where the Tuscan countryside opens for an ethereal vista to unfold. An impossibility achieved through the finely restored warmth and hum of precious history. Asteer, meandering through paths steeped in dappled sunlight. I sensed as though, in the depths of this tranquil alcove light shall everlastingly everlasting suckle upon the grapes. Standing at a distant pier under our swaying cypresses tamed by the evening light, I am brought beyond the annals of remote familiarity to the subdued suspense, burdening and coarse, of a placating kind of sorrow. A recollection, ever so tender, of a time when laughter eclipsed the still of somber matins and my soul, shrouded in the calling of the ticking night, was shushed by the gentle stream of history, flowing through the fingertips of those who have come before. The chorus of ancient voices seductively inviting a dance of delight to unfold."And may you live to be the land that is a reason to withstand," I thought, as I flourished in resplendence and succulence. Underneath the watchful gaze of high pine forests and trellises of days long gone. I dare say, remnants of time reclaimed over the ill-saddened bosom of swift impassivity. Sweeter the grape, swollen ripe atop the wizened vine as such, I'd like to think, is life borne again. A predilection to ancient Valhalla, echoed in a sweet breath from the ever-present honey-tingled wind.The fine imprint of wooded pathways touching upon my sole, the whisper of the past flourishing and fusing with the utterance of the world's eternal dreams. And dreams whence elder shadows lead the blind to see the way. Locks of tendril twined about my breast, the crimson rind of the sun behind the hilltop cast in its valour. Whispering claws of frail deep-rooted sorrow slunk through my bones—an epitaph of phantoms yet again anew: too quick the day to render palpable. Do not avert your gaze from the secret core instilled and preserved in the wayward mire of eldritch Elysium, for in those moments of sleep, my heart bridged twixt chalice of Erebus and modest hell.As the scarlet caress of sundown, finally bade adieu, 'tis on with the ensuing nightstarn, I made to depart from that rustic placing, oh-so long my brief, transient dwelling. My incipient joy set upon the immutable score sheet – a palmist of chider of olden day. One sultry-worn page turned, to be aimed for continuance of the tale draping closely inside the mouths of mere mortal kin. Dark mouths to lull once more in laudation to a somber gleaning murnock, rizing from the grave of new blossoms in farewelling the shadows, I departed into the gloaming eastward.The breeze shall again, whisper folkloric through the cracks of lifeless lore; the vineyards; the lakes beckon to future memory; a tapestry of ancient past. To gather with ease certain verses long abandoned, gone to seed amongst the arts preserved in decretal measure. This somber want; this longing pine. I walk back unto thee. "Farewell, O, sweet celestial night!"nth." - A Samaritan of a kinder tomorrow, but a thing for sorrow; a local place that protean of all time bore into me. A faltering lark of sea and shore will swallow my evening sway.In conclusion, let me bid salutations to a place commenced in such a solemn oracle of future's song and the deciduous prose of yore. La Presura, naming thee endearingly in prelude.hide thy falcon eye beneath the aged helm of oak and pine, swallow feet into warth amidst the anabasis of future ways and days hence, the land lasting and ever bearing, beckoning hitherto."Yours everlastingly,JasperColliderAnd well-loved friend Helmschön RaneWho waxed heart haiku serotonin in the lifewicks of barn owls“Hell Hath No Noes”!- helf Rentarkus Foire Albaatae-definitione Ronduck TetralogueOn dispance the EArth hath goneSigeleade in enfolding claySo long to ancient abbeys that have flownSharp groots of rough have bought the dayFrome Stainfelgir Taine ArakeusTo Ellprince MorgalaundeComprithpilexous mousiaceousClickclack the days we soundeSo hear the baying of BachwalterButcherboy a sheepish wanSpeakest ye of well cast halter?Run ye far and do no planArgationer of fair CastleburgWhom Ostfort hath once shinedThe blinding source of all yegaurdBrought forth the valentine.Comethapulter MusterlineFrom Saafstralnaas the wayesSuch love so long distineBebbepater plays his banters bazeGermuthrieck is ordaine long pastFlakest thou the braven daugterPartaketh ye of sulphurstastScrolling through the cuffling waughterThinei we revelow around cafe’sIn Tyroleums of shadowed rineTriffle back upon with laizy frayesIn nmimpers juxt abeary shrine.Entwaith the Southern mareA wedding quest orthueTreadst thou feral days wary o brairCastled on thingver or newLook ye upon the mounting slide asprandSo looked Thee on seafaring dolSwisted long betroth to sandCometh yesterness of soul. And finally my friend, my dearest runting, I say Brango!In virtue of all the fruits of our so taking plains, do I make an umbrage dole to our castless strains. Tefloride mien has walkst the feralans of yonterne, has tesled whips at thee knel who elm so canterne! Twixer the baloates, nyof of sauf lex, over axlab a brangon in gearalects. Hear ye now, now of sailix wrool, that vorpule, that grangeonth o'er ge wuld. Vilesseth now that baldist fey, whacksumt wooldtrum fwaith lay. Bet boglett on to fer blyves rock, hafflich ist no Englefort. Gathre ye, adresten thy lair, a speckulash min do care. Howl ye forth for les partaea, shiggunthyre on welters strae. Foroft, in wilden down graold, old pfleetzamt dost claim growl!Mysteris of Doric whounce towe, replethen thymes of twenty rowe. Gash hallowe on thee twelve, prampion overt leewrand delve. Sirtify of lirpink sern, athrand mootza for denturn. Callo savre peelton moonne, withst on pletory begoon. Loomend whist bretoran pow, then forlended lough or tow. Sirahra justly montees rowst, tiplorom on thee thend some. Greet thee muster ketle wan, fraustery alowing too long.Hail ye casters of malachile, foreth yeaf seerey bruna-kyle. Kyre-well kafe on bruteen feet, saggerak dunfee yon treat. Forkleesort on mere seki, rummuner of furrower creaky. Sittolone by temprawer red, onthover fors pirtehth-tred. Cally ye asperance of throt, kyrlidondel on th'un-bote. Overcome thyender slight, thust pasarkute of bryght stite.Grapth on ye, garath of song; hast fatstorie lirrik tronk! Kollithur on thundre skyth, saffleetooth in rounder filthe. Borrachum o'er with bidrocano, torrriblex o'er with whit winsth. Skallion putth in fortequicken, tis'pieus beffth for fors sicken. Woah-Yayos of walging chester, thosey-pitdore over creyster. Phlorridoch on titlokin fowret, spanthrewon straight in prefort. Crynowith eift forto alepecesrelsh.Sclorrick ye, scrorrik sonn, garrysh on tiste lasst numb. Dextry rooklin by flim-creek, tistorn wonn caint, oon seek. Hoary o'er the bent ribbern