In the city's heart, where dreams ignite, Stands the Populus, a marvel in the night. Designed by Lewis, now seventy-six, An architect whose magic weaves and sticks. Years stacked like bricks, wisdom's gentle arch, Guided by vision, each line a rhythmic march. Through glass and steel, stories intertwine, A legacy carved in skyline so fine. Today we honor the architect's grand way, As urban canyons echo with his birthday lay. A testament to time and thoughtful grace, In every room, his spirit leaves a trace.