Walking along the Esplanade
exchanging pleasantries with God,
azaleas of the early spring,
mushrooms in a fairy ring,
tulip greeting daffodil,
sunshine easing morning chill,
reflections gleaming off the Charles,
memories of Van Gogh at Arles.
Did Vincent also talk with God
as along the waterside he trod?
Vincent, walk with us a time.
My palette's loaded up with rhyme.
Why don't you two go on ahead.
I'll meet you at the flower bed.
The three of us will there compose
pictures, words and, oh yes, a rose.