Every time I look down on this timeless town
whether blue or gray be her skies...
Whether loud be her cheers or soft be her tears,
more and more do I realize:
I love Paris in the springtime.
I love Paris in the fall.
I love Paris in the winter when it drizzles,
I love Paris in the summer when it sizzles.
I love Paris every moment,
every moment of the year.
I love Paris.
Why, oh why do I love Paris?
Because my love is near.
Open Thread: Metaphors Made Concrete
1 hour ago