A Boston Serenade

My love for you is Interstate 93: not beautiful, but there for all to see. How summarise your worth in my affection? Isabella Stewart Gardner’s louche collection. Though dowdy, your hair to me is dear, as is the rainworn house of Paul Revere. I long to take you for my wedded spouse, like wanting chowder (Union Oyster House). To win you, I’d cross infinite frontiers, just as I cross the Common (beers in ‘Cheers’). My heart accepts you as its oligarch, like Jarren Duran rules at Fenway Park.