![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWGtf_wiws9bBCY53Y0XKvRr52S93zhUqWWUbbZzAttqy6j05kdfi2s6bQkMCwMccHQxRdfLevvPH08kiX59mTbs2MQEX0zzU-ILcNs_xox48wsN7WUMkNdddBLy26D9Z6InhBsjxOymc/s200/Tooker%252C+lunch.jpg)
My contribution deviates from the George Tooker painting
MAGPIE TALES
REMINDER
A memory brought back into focus,
Vividly.
*
We were young,
We were in love,
We were going to Paris.
What could be more romantic?
*
Britain was drab
In the nineteen-fifties,
Still struggling after The War.
*
The Paris of our dreams
Was vibrant,
Colourful,
Dreamy,
Full of bird-song
And the heart-beats of lovers.
*
We arrived.
*
Immediately
We caught the Metro.
(Was it called that?)
*
What an anti-climax!
*
The carriages were full of
Damp,
Beige,
Downcast,
Servile-looking people
Going to work.
*
No Romance!
No Lovers!
No Eternal Spring!
*
Our holiday improved.
*
But I shall never forget
The disappointment.
*
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![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmCisUcL9oLRUKXGrDDMylcGY_pOw8hicPIHm4zKuaw1DN8KZiGnq4VoD1cjIbB0BB24cGZox7ULoI0tlftA8Wkcw9MyW_7U6m2-UlOCVSsjrytb5hIUp2RB4SrF2tKy5RZDV1SonVeXg/s200/IMG_1594.jpg)
DAWN FLUSH
The ceiling echoes
The pink flush of dawn outside.
I wake with new hope.
*
1 comment:
ah there will always be Paris- I like both poems!
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