It is never too late,
My birthday gift,
Is the most beautiful that I received,
My sister, my brother-in-law and I,
Let’s cross France, on Monday
Went to Giverny on Tuesday
We visited the garden and the house
By Claude Monet, the painter,
Somme went to Paris on Wednesday
We visited the Musée de l'Orangerie,
To see Monet’s water lilies,
In two immense and oval rooms,
It was pretty amazing!
We tasted the Tuileries garden
among some Chinese tourists,
Then we left Paris in the afternoon,
The next day in the Mayenne
We visited the Robert Tatin museum,
Then we left for Brest
Here is a birthday gift
That I will never forget,
It was pretty amazing!
A joy it is to see
planted in his honor
A Memorial Tree
Roots, memories of Milton
and a kind act for the ecosystem
Forget-Me-Nots shall be written
by your poetry pals, ‘till then
RIP
Lewis Milton Hankins
[Poet]
December 5, 1941 ~ December 22, 2022
Paris at Christmas
Paris at Christmas
city of lights for a week
streets decorated
Eiffel Tower lit
like a Christmas tree aglow
tourists staring up
shoppers bustling crowds
bells ring; children caroling
joy is everywhere
rosy-cheeked Santas
wrapping presents with ribbon
in department stores
light sprinkle of snow
sleigh ride through the Tuileries
wrapped tight in blankets
by L Milton Hankins
December 5, 2022
I Am Anaya comment: Feliz cumpleaños a ti! Belated, hope it was a nice
one Milton. Paris must be on your mind, your many memories of Paris
are joyous! 12/6/22
It was Milt's Birthday, and I could feel the joy in his poem, I felt it!
Christmas in Paris with gentle snow falling
Listening to the bells of Notre Dame calling
The faithful from their frantic shopping spree,
A sleigh ride through the Tuileries, you and me
In the shadow of the Louvre bringing art alive
Stopping for a drink or two in a café at five.
Then, to the Opera House for an evening show
Ah, in the City of Lights, so many places to go
At Christmas, we see the Eiffel Tower in lights,
And I must mention, Folies Bergère, ah, sights
We must not miss, under the mistletoe, a kiss
Paris at Christmas … the true meaning of bliss.
Written December 6, 2022
Submitted to “Take Me There” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Margaret Lillico
Paris at Christmas
city of lights for a week
streets decorated
Eiffel Tower lit
like a Christmas tree aglow
tourists staring up
shoppers bustling crowds
bells ring; children caroling
joy is everywhere
rosy-cheeked Santas
wrapping presents with ribbon
in department stores
light sprinkle of snow
sleigh ride through the Tuileries
wrapped tight in blankets
Written December 5, 2022
In winter, nothing gives.
The tree holds tightly to
its fistful of sky
while the wind arranges
and rearranges
some leaves
at the entrance to the Tuileries,
always seeking
a different disorder.
First published in NOON: Journal of the Short Poem, Issue 14, August 2019
(after Charles Baudelaire)
It’s not the same. I noticed it today,
while dodging Rond-Point carriages.
I’m not the sort who mindlessly disparages
whatever’s new, but Haussman’s swept away
the Paris that I loved. Thus thought the swan
who’d wandered somehow from the Tuileries
and limped, bewildered, frightened, ill-at-ease,
his web feet scraping as he struggled on,
he knew not where, uncertain why his wings
were rasping in dry dust, instead of water.
Nearby, a black girl on a cast-iron bench
(advanced TB: I’ve come to know these things)
sat huddled, shy, not knowing any French,
quite lost. And Africa has lost a daughter.
I wandered, lost in the labyrinth of love
The right bank of the seine sang so clearly
That I was for sure walking with nothing Left
Nothing on the left at all
The northern vaults of gold
Meaningless to a bankrupt heart
In circles I flew with two right wings
Museums displaying my lost loves
Like artifacts on display
My heart laid nude for all to laugh
A sculpture of twisted pain an irony
Me and Napoleon
He lost wars
I lost loves
Together buried
Tuileries close by, merci Catherine
Jacques Boyceau, sieur de la Barauderie
The gardener of Luxembourg
Planting flowers for lovers lost or found
Roses for the young at heart
Me, I dreamt only of one thing
A woman to touch
My heart
Merci Dieu
Pour rien
Added Notes
Catherine de Medicis commissioned the garden of Tuileries
Marie de' Medici had built the Jardin du Luxenboug
Both after Gardens of their native Florence, Italy
She used Jacques Boyceau de la Barauderie to design her garden, who also worked on the garden of Tuileries. ( I think he was involved in changes/custody not the original design however I am not sure )
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