Paris, the pastry’s, the small cafe's
The long walks in the rain
An afternoon lunch
And you
Couples laugh
As they run in between the raindrops
Newspaper’s turn into magic umbrellas
At the touch of a finger
The boats drift by
Like they are made of paper Mache'
The clock on the old tower
Has fallen fast asleep
There is love on the menu
And dreams in the night sky
The paintings hanging in the tiny shop
Are whispering secrets to each other
You can hear the chatter of birds
As they play in the puddles
That has gathered on the crook- it sidewalk
An old man sit in the corner sleeping
With a half-lit cigarette
That has burnt down to his yellow fingers
Lemon meringue notes come flying out
From the tiny squeezebox
In the corner
Truffles and candy-coated dreams
Play hopscotch with your palette
Hot bread and wine
Are locked together in a romantic embrace
Soft conversations
Caught in-between the flicker of a candle
Sound like a lullaby
Mimes dance throughout the cobblestone streets
With painted faces
Of the rainbow
Even the moon is blushing
For it is you and I forever in love
And
Paris in the rain..
- Ken Riccio original poems ©
