words in a picture

A picture is a poem without words..

 so what else did I do

 while I paused from the end of the year rush

I added some greens...

 Tied bows and hung fragrance crystals

 re -arranged books,

 remembered the day I found this painting

 in a tiny little antique shop in Avignon

and looked for longer then just in passing...

poetic

I wonder where this could be?..

could it be the Loire passing under the bridge..

who fed the swans...?

the trimmed trees and hedge

 the tower, the turrets..

it all looks so familiar, 

of towns we pass through in France

a bit of all in one. 

Colette