In the Maison above the town,
The revelers wandered up and down.
The Castle beckoned, its aspect sheer.
The paths were lit but for some unclear.
The Battlements hosted another siege.
Who is Lord and who is Liege?
Summer tendered its ebbing stock.
Though the pool refreshed it came a shock.
Devious bells on cue rang out.
Tales twice told were bantered about.
Bacchus made his nightly rounds;
Subjects outside became inbounds.
Bracing, each actor braved many parts,
Quickening each line in fits and starts.
The last day lingered reluctantly;
The sun at last set absently.
‘Tis time to part the Maison’s heights.
Rejoin the lowlands, risk its slights.
The Maison will itself convalesce,
Letting each patient heal more or less.
