Loire Valley Château, France
Chenonceau: selfies by the coach-load
at this château on the Cher.
Chef d’œuvre of hydroponic art,
like a house-plant extraordinaire
with its feet in running water,
it arches over tea-or-coffee talk,
its bloom of transportable culture
dropping aesthetic seeds of colloquy,
from the salons of the States
to the boudoirs of Belarus.
If I donned my doublet and hose, I could
bow and scrape five hundred years away –
after all, time’s only a layer of dust –
I’d make renaissance with the festive dead
bal-masqués for a whoring king,
were it not for the tourists in between.
At least, outside, my hawk can soar
and blur them out, or swoop to the hand
of Diane de Poitiers in her prime,
dangling her legs, on the car-park wall.
Gerald this is fabulous. I don’t comment much these days, I feel compelled to reading this piece. So much to admire, my favourite lines “If I donned my doublet and hose, I could bow and scrape five hundred years away” So pleased I stopped by. I shall nominate, the least I can do.
Many thanks, Mike. It’s good to see you up and about and posting again, if only occasionally. I’m only managing to keep submitting old ones but it motivates me to re-examine them and revise if necessary. I’ve poked and prodded this one so often I’m surprised it’s still got any life in it. I think this is version number twenty. Do keep stopping by. Best wishes for your continued involvement. We need more of the ‘older’ members to come back.