Think of the perfect poem to write
Where epiphany and brilliance rarely unite
Where splendor starts at the hands of Big Ben
And stretches all the way to the banks of the Seine
Where one sits and thinks for hours on end
About that which most only wish They could pen
The spector of the Eiffel Tower
Brightened by the Midnight hour
Delicate sleep sires euphoric dreams
Of the ebullience of a golden stream
The Arc de Triomphe with a rainbow above
Encapsulates what I\'m thinking of
Snow covered lilles encased in frost
That embrace the luxury of being embossed
With the melancholy essence of memories lost
Having incurred and survived it\'s wrath
Seeking refuge in a storm\'s aftermath
Marigolds and primrose interperse to create
A feeling of royalty one can\'t abdicate
A fantasy world where one sleeps with despair
Only to wake up from the night that They shared
And realize the dreams to which They adhered
Had become a most unwelcome nightmare
Now We finally return to the Seine
To bring this poem to a merciful end
And sincerely hope that We meet again
Perhaps,next time,on the banks of the Thames