The birth of Brussels, so we're told
Where pilgrims flocked to see
An ancient hermit spread the word
Once run-down slum, now lively spot
St. Gery comes alive,
The Senne’s old isle, no grassy plot
Where night life seems to thrive.
I sweltered in the heat last night
I thought it was Madrid
The crowded cafés bathed in light
Served beer and frites and squid.
A fortress rose to fill the space
Built by Charles of France
Till a church brought God back to this place
Its survival left to chance.
With the Revolution down it came
And a fountain caused delight
Encased soon in a wrought iron frame
Now - an exhibition site.
A melting pot of melting folk
In unaccustomed heat
I’d give my right arm for a Coke
But cannot find a seat.
I dare say Belgians love this spot
But so do the Ex-Pats
Brussels buzzes when it’s hot
Come on! Drink up! Relax!
(c) Poet in the woods 2015