Balconies of Carnival Dreams

In hues that hum with jazz and sun,
Two houses dance where days are spun.
A blush of violet, a golden flare,
Their shutters whisper southern air.
The wrought iron sings in curly lace,
Decked with garlands, draped in grace.
Ribbons flutter, lanterns glow—
Echoes of Mardi Gras below.

Each window holds a silent tune,
Painted bright like a brass band’s croon.
The sky above, a brushed blue sigh,
Frames this French Quarter lullaby.
In pastel strokes, your soul has caught
The rhythm that New Orleans brought.