Provence

Out of the palest of mid summer skies
the sun strikes on unyielding limestone.
Powder white dust
coats my black sandals.

Iconic lavender tumbles from every corner,
baking gloriously,
it's fragrance generous and hopeful.

Hill clung villages
on bleached crags,
perch above
chorus patchworks
of vineyard and olive groves.

Shimmering beauty
dares you to look from
precarious castle towers
to the dizzying depths
of vast plateau.

Crafted collectable treasures
beckon from tightly woven shops
along jostled streets.

Cool vaulted churches
with garishly painted saints
and votive candles
flickering their coin paid intercession.

Trunks of tangled olive trees
force their way through hard earth,
quiet observers of rich history.

Blessed Provence,
treasured place
of God and man's creation.