Parc Monceau
A wooden boat upon a sea of sand
stands beached, unfathomed by the fiercest storm,
beside the train, beneath the bees which swarm
furled flaglike round the Cherry close at hand
whose branches full two hundred years have fanned, -
whose perfumed petals in pink uniform
pattern the path in puzzle-picture form.
Upon the play boat, children, hand in hand
heedless of Time’s march, unruly play,
re-enacting pirate roles. Life’s farce
around them they ignore, nor cares display,
impervious to ciphered hour-glass.
Beside the playground, blinkered adults pass,
obey the sign: - “No walking on the grass! ”
poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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