Dear Andrea…
I remembered dear Andrea. A lovely Michigan gal, once was kind to my young heart. I wrote into a notebook.
“Time has pass us by,
old wounds don’t hurt so badly.
Old sorrow had become the poet’s wealth.”
I am drinking wine alone in Paris, the city of love, the city of lights. I told the Paris moon, forsaken love. Leave us dreaming of things gone. I sprinkle more words to the notebook.
“I wish upon the rising moon.
Forget me not beautiful Andrea.
Once you made me smiled and
we danced. And you told me.
You were my only gal.
Now just promises made, never kept.”
Tonight I am listening to the French songs in Paris and I wished we attempted love. I remembered I returned to Michigan in 1978 and your father told me. You left and never returned. I wrote a note, I gave to your kind father dear Andrea.
“Let’s not forget,
once we knew laughter, once we knew kind words.
I remember you my dear Andrea.
I hope you are happy,
doing all the things you care to do.
I still love my kind and beautiful blond gal.
Who make me felt happy and okay.
I will see you in sweet dreams.”
Now I am 2500 miles away from you and I am drinking the French wine and I am trying to find the Hemingway voice. I have learn the Hemingway curse. The Agnes curse of love lost because of wrong place and wrong time. I remember you. Do you remember me?
Coyote
i didn’t understand a word, but music needs no translating. Reminiscing has a universal melody. Great poem John. Happy Sunday, my friend.👌
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Good morning Nigel and thank you for reading and the comment. The music is so wonderful.
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