New Orleans in winter with it's many delights,
The food, the passions, the sounds, the sights.
The streetcar rumbling along the track
Calls the city's children to please come back.
Church bells ring out three times a day,
Reminding us to give thanks, ponder, and pray.
In a courtyard, on St. Charles Avenue,
There's a world shared with the blessed few,
The beauty of winter roses in bloom,
The scent of the Sweet Olive's perfume.
Sasanquas are still gracing our eyes
With the winter gardens' most special prize.
The Crepe Myrtle is a flirty tree,
With no winter bark, she's a sight to see,
Enticing with her bare lacy arms
Come June, she'll display all of her charms.
In a secret corner, a magnolia or two
Will scent the summer air with her lemony brew.
Azaleas abound, though they're not in bloom
Dark green a backdrop for the colors coming soon.
People passing in the streets
Saying hello to all one meets.
This city throbs with love for life
Beneath the scars of her ongoing strife.
I want to be here as she rewrites her story
And this Dame in Distress recovers her glory.