This is a poem I wrote for my oldest niece, Megan, when she was born, recalling a visit to Bruges.
at the beguinage
for megan
The little canals in the city of lace
all lead to one place, and gratefully plead
not for pity, but peace
at the Beguinage.
Oh little Muffin,
dear as the lace in the city of Bruges,
all roads do not lead to Rome, but to peace
at the Beguinage.
(Photo of the Beguinage, Bruges, Belgium, used with the permission of www.hotels-belgium , www.trabel.com & www.arakea.com'. All rights reserved)
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