Drains are blocked and puddles grow
The wind, pernicious, scoops up trash
Streets desecrated in a flash ...
I look for blue in steel-grey skies
My brolly, soaking wet, still tries
To resist that 'Mary Poppins' look
As the struts now wobble – some gone crook!
The Grand-Place looks the worse for wear
The scaffolding does not add flair;
Bedraggled tourists before ten
For no shops open until then ...
I shiver in this Feb downpour
And await my guests at 'Chaloupe D'Or'
On time they meet, greet and decide
That I should guide them 'from inside'!
Seeking shelter from the rain
We hurry to the 'King of Spain'
Where I, with anecdotes, regale
This kaleidoscopic Brussels tale.
Under foreign rule, from way back when,
Independence made 'Les Belges' more zen
They cope, survive and compromise ...
Yes - a great city – when it dries!
(c) Poet in the woods 2020
Inside the Roi d'Espagne Café - Grand'Place, Brussels
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