Paris me manque. 
I write in my book. 
Dreams of France, 
past journeys and 
new adventures.
Scanning the pages
of words written so long ago.
Collected memories
of old love made new again.
Have I not sought you out again?
Looked to you for advice and wisdom?
Wanting to hold your hand
and have new experiences with you.
The French will embrace these 
memories as will men and women 
the world over. 
That your opinions haven’t changed.
This is what I hope. 
My old age may be made young again, 
through both our love 
and Paris.