City Of Parks Poem by james watkin
City Of Parks
Drawing up its seating
Of relaxation
By what tree-blown, o'er-flown
Of pleasant cloud, bird
Do such cities, coarse heard
Graciousness take on.
How more so, park-guided
Down one's paths are, nights
Albeit eve's chill-lit
Old-style lamped! Warmer!
For its theatre's farther,
Cafe's, pub's strewed lights.
Melbourne
Monday, May 10, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: city
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12/21/2025 4:29:13 AM # 1.0.0
