L'amour sous le parapluie
is a strange thing
fresh, fragile
my fingers are ice
your lips are fire
L'amour sous le parapluie
idles with Chopin
on mirror streets
dances on stiletto heels
over borrowed dreams
I sink into you, my darling
you rush into me
while the sombre rain shelters,
fires
l'amour sous le parapluie
14 comments:
Fragile, it is. Very nice.
That is seriously beautiful, and expertly done.
Wow.
Beautiful sums it up best.
Paul
It definitely has a nice music attached to it. I'm not a fan of love poems, but you always surprise me (in a positive way) with yours.
re: chicken intestines->please refer to my post. I understand that people coming from different cultures have different ideas about the edibility of certain body parts (of an animal). I've heard that some Americans, if not most?, do not eat the chicken head for example.
Wow. Sigh...
:)
That second verse is pure brilliance!
So beautiful, Vesper - full of lyrical exquisiteness. And so evocative. Brilliantly done.
xxxx
Thank you, Bernard.
Jason, thank you! Wow.
Thank you, Paul, I'm glad you liked it.
Szelsofa, thank you. In my head it sounds a bit like a French chansonette...
Really, Aine? :-) Thank you.
Thank you, Miladysa! Welcome and thank you for visiting my blog.
Vanilla, thank you so much! :-) xoxoxo
So much my thing, Vesper.
I found myself thrilling to these hot and cold words, while hearing the mournful rain above my head. What electricity!
Yeah...wow. :)
dear Vesper,
l'amour sous la parapluie...c'est beau...........le ciel pleurs des perles de joie.
Very nice feeling of getting drenched.
orgasmik
Sarah, then its work is done... :-) Your words are very kind, a poem by themselves. Thank you!
Orgasmik, thank you for your beautiful words and for visiting my blog.
beautiful poem (that made me brush up on my french....!)
Beautiful. Bit racy too...oooeerr! :)
Thank you, Hotwire. I'm glad you liked it.
Jon!!! Thank you! :-)
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