A Poem

     We were invited to a writer's workshop over the lunch hour yesterday and asked to speak for a few minutes about what we are doing in France. That was very enjoyable. Every month they meet and have a theme to write a 2 page paper or poem related to that theme. The individuals critique each other's work at the workshop. The theme this week was Time Travel. I must admit I am not a Science Fiction nut like Russell is. My mind can't go there. But I quickly wrote up something more dear to my heart showing the essence of moving through time.

Paris Shining

In the 1860s, my love for Paris hiding

in salons of tall rooms with paint a'drying

Monet, Cassatt, Degas.

stiff lapels and long dresses flowing

colors bursting,  brushes coursing

dripping by the airy windows.

In the 1920s, my love for Paris writing

by the tables drinking, pens in hand, papers crinkling

Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Stein.

On the banks of the Seine, my feet a'walking

book stalls of the 20's, couples there a'plenty  

art stalls of tomorrow.

Shimmering water, abiding

people are out riding, or in hiding, leaving, loving, lying.

city of light, getting dim

Now, my love for Paris shining

people lost and lonely, looking for some meaning 

unfulfilled by creativity.

transport me.

(In the vein of e. e. cumming's - one of my favorite poets) -Carol