Sitting at a table at the street café

Yellow light spills out of the open door

Now and again a person or two strolls by on the cobbled way

Sip your wine and think

About those who once sat here

Drinking, talking, drawing castles in the air

Few stars can be seen in the sky

But you know that once

Vincent looked up and beheld

The swirling masses of celestial light

His nights were as coloured as his days

As he depicted the ordinary places where he lived and walked

With endless magic

You have come in pilgrimage

To the streets the artist walked

Contemplate the places

Where he opened up

A universe of wonder