11.03.2012

Promenade

it is addressed thusly:
an ode.
it reads:
Found riding south windward wise
Amid the promise of solemn season
In autumn sun's northward treason
A moment made of poesy resides
Where smooth road mirrors mild
Comes brightly as dawn is styled
Painted wood all-colored leaf
Did make anew a bas-relief
If wedding-bells did then make sound
Green and gray would the pageant be
With yellow trimmed embroidery
With sky-blue its field and ground
Illuminated there, a brightening train
Of bride-tailor's legedermain
If sunlight, gold were siblings made
Here Jerusalem's ways were newly laid
A brighter earth in heaven's guise
Monet his brush had set aside
Van Gogh his ochre could not decide
If type or truth did here arise
Found riding southward, windward wise.

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