I want to wake up to the smell of fresh bread in the morning from the bakery down the road, I want to roam the streets of Paris and shop in the haute couture stores. At night I want to eat dinner in fancy restaurants with an accordionist playing a few feet away like old times. I want to drink all the French wine I can get my hands on, and I want to fall asleep in the arms of my lover every night. I left a part of my heart in Paris.
The carousel maker lived alone / Out beyond the edge of town // I used to walk down the lane / to peer inside the open door / and look for what new horse / or creature strange / he might be carving next // once it was a dappled gray / another a griffin, saddled in gold..... --ds