The Great Terrace At Versailles Poem by Donatien Moisdon
The Great Terrace At Versailles
Brown and green, skinny stalks,
poplars, infinity...
Far away and fragile,
shimmering, hazy light.
Looks that will ricochet
on sleek mercury ponds
and to the Grand Canal.
Golden Autumn rumbling,
golden roars of Autumn.
My hands on a sculpture
and drunk with perfection
I am, for an instant,
the hub of creation.
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: perfection
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9/20/2024 7:17:29 PM # 1.0.0.1119
