01 Feb


Winter in England

afternoon giving way

to evening

filling the windows

of this ancient room

with darkness.


Yet for this moment

I am not here.


I am playing scratchy




French jazz

on my turntable.


I can almost smell

the Gauloises

and the Chanel.


I can almost hear


bursting with life

outside my window.


I can almost imagine

you and I

somehow both


to a Paris summer.


I am sprawled

loose limbed and easy

in an old leather chair

drinking wine.


And you are dancing

and shedding clothes

and blowing me kisses

while I








© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Hamish Blakely


Posted by on February 1, 2019 in Poetry, Still Life


Tags: , , , , , , , ,

10 responses to “Paris

  1. gracefulphrase

    February 1, 2019 at 7:50 pm

    The imagery is stunning, I’m whisked away.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. patti o'malley (@OzoneparkPatti)

    February 1, 2019 at 11:11 pm

    I’m part French..never been there..but you make it more enticing

    Liked by 1 person

  3. patti o'malley (@OzoneparkPatti)

    February 2, 2019 at 3:57 am

    Paris sizzles

    Liked by 1 person

  4. patti o'malley (@OzoneparkPatti)

    February 2, 2019 at 12:30 pm

    As do your poems..

    Liked by 1 person

  5. thereluctantpoet

    February 3, 2019 at 4:29 am

    Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.

    Liked by 1 person


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