Every spring ...
I'm on my way to Trianon ,
to taste the sweetness of a season ...
Marquise ,my gracious dame ,
may I take your hand
to express my flame
in this kingdom of sand ?
A morning ...
Trianon,such a pretty lie !
All was only illusion ,
powered heads of unreason,
on the lip ,just fancy butterfly ...
I climbed the steps of the scaffold,
marquise,body and soul,destiny's cold...
Poor heads,blood ransom...
Every spring ,
Traveller from another dimension,
I'll return to Trianon ,
cherry trees just coming into blossom...
A morning ...
-----------------------
Paris may 1792
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 29th, 2024 01:35
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments2
cool cherry blossoms are sweet
cool blood red...
I would like to invite you for a walk into the depths of the immense park.
Trianon gardens and their mysteries...
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.