Hope Street (again)

It was Hope Street again,
or the Rue Madeleine,
they try to anglicise us,
yet it is not english I hear.

I chat to my Romanian paper boy,
he calls me 'darling'
and we talk about
the five year rule.

I swing water over my shoulder,
buy a spanish tapas lunch
and pepper spray seagulls
(not really) I just shoosh
with my, (i'm not grown up bag')
I must repaint my toe nails,
this hot weather
cracks me up.

In the Place d'Eglise
even the choir has gone quiet,
they moved the benches
but the stalls are empty,
just tanned legs
in the cranny's
over looking a street
with hearts filled with hope.



Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 435 times
Written on 2012-07-25 at 21:03

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Every city has a Hope Street--or at least should have one. Never visited La France, but it's in my bucket list. I have a degree in French, but have forgotten practically all I knew--though I can still muddle through a French novel.

Lovely poem.

Bill
2012-07-27