Midnight in Paris

Midnight in Paris,

And the stars tumble down,

Drawing over a veil of romance;

And though I can see

That this love is just memories,

I still find my feet starting to dance.

Swing me around and twirl me again;

The gaslights are full

And the streets, slick with rain;

Master my soul and lead me astray –

I want to forget and live all at once.

In Paris, in Rome,

In my room back at home,

My mind builds a palace of dreams;

And so I laugh and I cry,

Drink wine till I die,

While the full moon outside

Quietly beams.

.

.

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This entry was published on May 20, 2013 at 8:17 PM. It’s filed under Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

write the fox

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