The Road to St. Remy de Provence

Roadside trees protect the farmer’s plows
They stand for miles, like well placed fence posts, true,
Aligned, an arboreal arch of bending boughs
That beckon me to venture: “Bienvenue.”

Provence’s countryside in colors true
with fragrant lavender, sunflowers gold,
Painting flashing vistas, reds and blues,
Imprinted in my mind’s eye, ever bold.

The tiny, one-lane towns for ages old,
Have flourished with their understated charm,
A small cafe, rough streets of cobblestones,
Where patrons chat with neighbors, pets on arm.

My map as guide, I motor surely on, content
that life is good, my days in France-well spent.


4 Comments on “The Road to St. Remy de Provence

    • Thanks, Bjorn. I enjoyed writing this one, as it forced my to recall images from my last trip there, two years ago. We had taken a wrong turn and ended up meandering via back roads. Those occasions always offer the longest- lasting memories.


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