The Road to St. Remy de Provence

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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.

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

    1. BCIJo (aka Joanne Edith)

      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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