Paris...
Within the walls of this city, far beyond sins and angels,
light and dark, sat the first glimpse of a French moon.
Slender as a half face and stunning like the young
American girl wrapped in the lilies Monet draped on the
walls of L'Orangerie des Tuileries.
She stood motionless...Breathless...
As if, for one slight moment...Time stopped just to watch
her. Watch her blend into the Art and its surroundings.
Seep into its emotions and senses...brush herself into the
true likeness of majestic excellence. A goddess. An angel...
The stillness of a hundred eyes that saw as I saw.
Penetrating the furthest canyons of my soul.
Touching the source...
Magic...
T.W.
Copyright © KyddCo 2002