paris is hot, cold and windy all at the same time,
its absurd i know.
a flurry of cathedrals and old time buildings,
protected still, but not remembered.
i see...
buskers in the metro carriages,
singing about love lost and life gained.
pickpockets, working in groups.
in and out of carriages, movement never quite the same.
pigeons, the international tourist.
appearing in many places, always the opportunist.
gardens, from tuileries to the versailles,
where swans gather and mourn for the monarchy.
cuisine like no other, one has to say
of pasteries, gelatos and pasta al dente.
le eiffel tower, yes i am in paris.
glitters like magic, when midnight strikes.
france talks to me, simplest of terms,
bonjour, merci and au reviour.
~
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