Paris Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Paris is striking
in early spring,
to my liking
and I start to sing:

Something I remember
that once did call,
a song from September
of later fall.

Where days were yellow
and brownish white,
for winter said hello
in its dark night.

And star were starting
to shine around,
with birds departing
in a farewell sound.

Now spring's impending
in colors all new,
and blossoms mending
for me and you.

This is an instance
to live and share,
in a new trance
of spring everywhere!