Guarded within the old red wall’s embrace,

Marshaled like soldiers in gay company,

The tulips stand arrayed. Here infantry

Wheels out into the sunlight. What bold grace

Sets off their tunics, white with crimson lace!

Here are platoons of gold-frocked cavalry

With scarlet sabres tossing in the eye

Of purple batteries, every gun in place.

Forward they come, with flaunting colors spread,

With torches burning, stepping out in time

To some quick, unheard march. Our ears are dead,

We cannot catch the tune. In pantomime

Parades that army. With our utmost powers

We hear the wind stream through a bed of flowers.

Comment and send me your Three Things and I will find a poem and a picture and publish them for you!