All That Glitters
Each traveler's face shines with lights from windows
of shops which line the cheery esplanade.
The pinks of spring bloom on their pale night skin
and all like babes reflect love, limb from limb.
San Francisco’s night life warms like brandy.
The street light glows a soft, warm, gold at night,
as syrupy, and sweet as butterscotch.
The well pruned trees are laced with colored bulbs
and between each bough, they twinkle gaily,
reminding every weary soul of joy.
Even sidewalks twinkle in the alleys,
their seeded sections laced with bits of glass.
And, stop lights spirit little walkers rush
to a tune which tell them when to go,
while yellow caution lights blink in between.
Ah, the Bay how it’s staged for the merry,
as on occasion, fireworks flowery show,
high above the Golden Gate to Oakland,
the red, white, and blue of nation repeat
San Francisco, a sparkling jewel at night.
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