In a city, on a bluff, by a bay all the world's buzz is hushed by the solitude of Sunday morning In the day of sanctimonious rite small chatter, and honest smiles grow in cafes along the green bluffs, and Victorian dreams of Milwaukee on Sunday This grand relic of past German immigrants and America's lost architecture befriends young, old, and in between for a deep breath and gentle brush with old acquaintances, and those caught in the moment of Sunday morning Her architecture rivals any feast of history in the east or otherwise. The buildings, and mansions of barons take you back nearly two centuries to the simple pleasure of breakfest on Sunday And as you look east down into the bay and rising sun you capture a small souvenir of Milwaukee most in Chicago, New York or LA would pay millions for just a taste of Orange juice, or pancakes and tea on Sunday Morning
Reason for writing:
Milwaukee is a beautiful city, full of a rich historical past and grand waterfrontBirth sign: Not entered
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Grigorii Romashko.