The French Love

Blue eyes, brown hair and the French air;

He was straight out of Mills and Boons.

Saw him first mixing tequila with vodka.

He dealt the cards with expertise

As if they were friends from old.

The scene was set,

The curtains up,

The music—ZAZ.

We argued:

The English were cold;

The Spaniards spoke from the heart;

London was a bore;

But Milan was his whore;

Caviar was disgusting;

But ratatouille felt like home.

It started gently:

His hand in mine;

The battle of wits;

The battle of hearts;

It was to commence at last.

I asked him meekly- will it last?

‘Je ne sais pas,

But I love you…for now.’

That was all I was to get

No empty promises;

No plans for tomorrow;

No roses in satin;

Nothing but….just love.

Love that lasted a moment,

Disappeared with the fading moon.

Something that tasted like spirits

And made the head heavy.

Something that encouraged smiles,

Conversation and delirium.

Something warm,

Something pretty,

And something very French.

How am I to ever forget that night?

That night I met my French love.

The funny thing:

I left the morning after without a note,

Knowing it won’t last.

Advertisements

Author: radhikamukherji

I am a simple girl with my finger in a lot of pies. A student of literature, I am also a guitarist and vocalist. I love travelling and my dream is to backpack across the world. Connecting with people from all walks of life is my primary hobby; others include painting (expressionism), adventure sports, dancing, writing and procrastinating. I wish to share the way I see the world with you folks. Hope you get something out of it. Cheers :)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s