France Is For Lovers Poem by John W. McEwers

It's Paris in the Springtime
as the fluers de lis flower
Singing hymns to the fresh new floral scents.
Paintings hang in the monuments
to great men and their moments
showing oils and acrylics trapping hymns.
And that architectural marvel that is called the Eiffel Tower
towers over sights and smells and sounds of spring.
It is here that you lay your head to rest now.
It is here that you bring other heads to rest.
It is in Paris in the Springtime that is for lovers.
And if I could afford the plane ticket over
you would have to see me regardless
of all the child support you try to make me pay.