Crocuses spring forth
and birds perch on my eyelids.
My history is a little fuzzy.
I think this poem was built
during the time of Louis XIV.
From afar it is all gold and legend,
but up close it's just mortar and dust.
Renovations continue till this very day.
Care to join me on my daily strolls
Care to join me on my daily strolls
through a living sculpture?
The fresh air will do wonders for the heart.
My dears, look closer, this poem
contains gardens of exquisite topiaries.
Greg Santos
Paris, France
March 18, 2011
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