Paris

A poem based on James Fenton’s In Paris With You

Let’s talk of Paris. How it brought us to now. 

I’ll admit that when we were there I had no care,

Of who, of what or why,

Of whether we live or die

It seems we made quite the pair. 

But in that oh so sleazy hotel room,

It was suddenly easy being in Paris with you,

There was none of the fuss,

It was just us,

Just me and Paris and you. 

On that rainy morning when we left

I felt bereft, as we went our separate ways,

When you promised that you’d call me

Because I thought I’d never see

You ever again

But here we are

Only three years on

Since you called me

But now it’s not just us

So let’s talk of love. Now we’re back in Paris,

There’s a lot more of Paris in our view,

The tower against the sky,

That look in your eye,

I know I’m in love with you. 

So let’s talk of love. Now we’re back in Paris. 

I am in love with the slightest thing you do. 

I am in love with your eyes, your mouth,

I am in love with...all points south. 

Again, I’m in Paris with you,

Promising...I do.