A hundred years have come and gone,

Marc painted the tower,

bold and strong.

A blue horse stands,

its gaze unclear,

Whispers of meaning disappear

A herd of blue,

a phantom light,

Shimmering softly,

out of sight.

Like stained glass glowing,

pure and bright,

Caught in a dream,

a fleeting flight

Eyes behold,

but can't define,

The magic woven in each line.

Before you know,

it pulls you near,

A mystery wrapped in colors clear.

Round the tower,

wild and free,

Blue horses dance in memory.

Running with friends,

they leave their mark,

Echoes of Marc within the dark.

A herd of blue,

a phantom light,

Shimmering softly,

pure delight.

Forever painted,

bold and true,

The magic lives in

shades of blue.