The Keepers Of Paris Poem by Arno Le Roux

At four gates of Paris God placed winged men,
God had their swords taken from them,
Replacing with secrets the new way to fight,
Paris would now breathe a new life at night,

At the north gate a tall man dressed as a tailor,
Clothing the town folk from prince to the sailor,
His secret was weaving and cutting and stitching,
By teaching the beauty of clothing and matching,

The south gate was hotter an apron his attire,
While cutting and dicing and building a fire,
Presentation the secret for lovers of food,
The baker and chef selecting the mood,

The east gate hypnotic as all stood dead still,
The violin's new master selected God's will,
Their roads were laid out a long time ago,
The violin designed for the new road to go,

The west gate for sun-down for there they would meet,
To go on their knees and an angel they meet,
He handed a glass for laughter and cheer,
Instructed the lovers to hold each other dear,

So when next in Paris you ask where's the gate,
They'll look at you strangely? Clearly you're late,
Early to wake there's music to see,
Stay up late with your lover for thee,

In between your duty is to find the old tailor,
Listen very closely as he knows the Old Sailor,
Lastly the south gate if you love food,
That God made for lovers for setting their mood,

The Sailor on the ship comes closer to see,
Have thou found yet a match for thee?
Your match is out there listening to sunrise,
Your match out there it should be no surprise,

The gates are designed to keep until when,
Four angels all seem like ordinary men,

A wine merchant to bring cheer,
A Violinist to help find your dear,
A Tailor to cut out your match,
A baker to show which batch...

Arno Le Roux 2014