The Seine, a silver ribbon draped through time, Unfurls its secrets in the city’s chime. Beneath the gaze of Notre-Dame’s old stone, A silent witness where the seeds of love are sown.
The quais breathe deep, cool air of centuries past, Where whispered history’s shadow is cast. Bouquinistes tend their treasures, worn and rare, In emerald boxes, catching morning’s glare.
The light descends, a painter’s subtle hand, On wrought-iron bridges spanning the land. From Pont Neuf to Pont des Arts, the currents glide, Reflecting streetlamps on the turning tide.
A melody of footsteps, soft and low, As lovers wander where the old lamps glow. The scent of night-blooming jasmine and damp stone, A quiet peace where one is truly known.
To walk the Seine is to embrace the soul of Paris, Where every ripple holds a gentle kiss. A timeless journey, measured not by pace, But by the magic of this cherished place.
Contact me if you want to take a walk there with your camera. I’ll be happy to share my best POV with you
Leave a Reply