Paris-Hour 11

I imagine a cafe

On the Champs-Elysees

Sipping tall glasses of French wine

At sunset


I imagine a walk along the Seine

Hands held tight

The sun going down

The moon coming up

City lights reflecting over and over

Like a fairyland


I imagine The Eiffel Towel

Standing tall in the night sky

Beckoning us to climb up to the sky

To see the city from it’s perspective


I imagine the Moulin Rouge

The Arc de Triophe

Strolling through the Louvre

Notre Dame de Paris


Poetry dripping from my fingers

As the City of Lights

Sings to us

A French lullaby


I fall asleep in an ancient hotel

French ghosts whispering

Bonne Nuit- good night




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