The girl and the city

She longed to leave to the city
Where the madamoiselles and monsieurs were a plenty
Where cobble stoned streets could be strolled endless hours
During day, a meandering river, cutting the corners, gracefully
“Pardon, excusez-moi, Madamoiselle”  A slight touch.
Where politeness is not an issue, a self proclaimed must, a courteous manor seemingly born with
Where she enjoys being alone, yet never feels lonely
“Un café, s’il vous plait”, and as night falls, “Un verre de vin, monsieur”
Where all four seasons have their turn, but she prefers the spring
It comes alive, a new adventure everyday
As the flowers blossom, and the grass sprouts are born, so follows her longing
To the city, where only she can feel at home.


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