Your best days are to come…

White and red roses, armed with their wit spikes

Burgeon to drive out this belated winter:

Boom… Boom… Boom…

Twenty-two projectile shots from mounted guns…

Birds fly high in the Grand Palais’ sky, over its inaccessible roof glass

And Adults run followed by their tiny kids:

All would see this year Presidencial Parade.

Young Man, your d-day has come

Hope that Your best days are to come!

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