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08/14/11 - (5)
L'Orangerie
This shadow-strewn, cool-breezy Jardin des Tuileries–perfumed noon, "Linda" is the name love drapes over its naked shoulders, Like a diaphanous, loose-flowing robe of Claude Monet water lilies.
The cumulus-river powder-blue sky cries out your two soft syllables, As if it were an entire choir of silent wind chimes Rhyming the smooth, soothing hues of Giverny's padded, petaled pool.
Too soon, you and I, sweet nénuphar, are woven into the hallowed soul Of l'Orangerie's broad, bold, blurry brush strokes — Violet, green, white, pink, yellow, blue heartbeats painting us as lovers.
08/14/11 - (5)
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