First Poem

Autumn in St Paul

Lovely Autumn in St Paul de Vence,
The sun so bright, the light so pure,
The sharpness heightens every sense,
The artist’s spirits are stirred once more.

Chagall, Renoir and Picasso are here,
Their souls entwined in every scene,
Inspiration here, there and everywhere,
And all around a peaceful beauty so serene.

A time to savour the passing Summer,
To anticipate Winter, that bridge to Spring,
Every season, brings its own special signature,
To wonder what the new dawns will bring.

The farmers tend to each tiny plot,
Every nook and cranny, something growing,
Fruit, vegetables, nothing is left to rot,
Generations before them always sowing.

The sky is clear, promenades are crowded,
Couples hand in hand, the dogs are strolling,
Cyclists, roller bladers, we are surrounded,
Snowy Alps, Azur Med, opposite and enchanting.

The endless sea washes onto pebbled beach,
The constant swishing soothes and reassures,
Sails and planes float just beyond our reach,
Africa just out of sight beyond these shores.

A fascinating and contrasting place to be,
A crossroads for peoples of every religion,
Constantly changing but always that sea,
To unite us, that blue ribbon, its endless mission.