The sky a pool of hues,
Above my head,
Swirl from blue to yellow.
Women’s perfume,
And the scent of warm bread,
Occupy the air.
Ambitious vines,
Vibrant with green,
Traverse building sides.
Stone roads smoothed,
By busy workers,
And leisurely souls alike.
Pastel structures full,
Of hushed conversation,
And the laugh of lovers.
The air thick,
Like golden honey,
Broken by a breeze.
The city feels,
Of alabaster silk,
And of charcoal leather.
It invokes,
Substantial art,
And simple avocation.
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