CINQUAIN IN FRANCE

I see
In a vast bar
On the edge of my past
A boy so lost amid the crowd
And you,

There was,
In the mayhem,
A sense of happening,
A feeling of the familiar
In you,

Brown shirt
And dark blue jeans,
Gaze so deep to drown in
And a gentleness that caught me
Unaware,

In truth,
I had not seen
Or noticed you come in
But from the moment I saw you
I knew,

You were
The smile I sought,
The acceptance I craved,
The friendship I needed to find
At last,

I was
The curious
Little bird who’d found flight
And a place to perch in Paris
But then
In France
I was foreign,
A fool to fortitude
And invisible to all eyes
But yours,

I found
As time trickled
A fondness in that find,
A connection in the chaos
To last
Past boys
And men who came
To try us and test us
To see us laugh and to see us
Fall down.

I will
In these few lines
Try my best to thank you
For taking the time to see me
Back then,

The smile
That you offered
On that night, in that bar
Made a fearful foreign young boy
Feel home.

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Thank you Readers

I just wanted to take a moment to say thank you to everyone who has stopped by and read my poems over the past few years. It has been exceptionally encouraging to know that the words and thoughts I write are being heard and enjoyed and have a life and meaning outside of my own head.
In real life I work in fashion, a pattern maker actually, based in Amsterdam, though Irish originally, having arrived here via London and Paris. While my work life is a world away from writing, I am discovering that there is so much more value to be found in the construction of a sentence than there is in debating the length of a hem.

So thanks again for dropping by and boosting me…

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Thank you, Nana

We carried you,

Like a child, that day

As Spring shone around us

And the flowers took bloom

And I wondered if April

Had ever seen so soft a day?

We carried you,

Like a child, that day

And traced each and every journey

We’d made with you along the way,

On busses and trains and airplanes

To foreign towns and holy lands-

Your presence more beloved than the coins you always gave.

We carried you,

Like a child, that day

And remembered

Every knee you had bandaged,

Every tear you had dried

And every belly you had filled

With your apple pies and custard bakes

Fresh brown breads and coffee cakes.

We carried you,

Like a child, that day

As red roses fell

As fluidly as the waters over Niagara

While a breeze brushed our cheeks with a kiss.

We carried you,

Like a child, that day

Your body as weightless

As it was lifeless

While we covered you over with the red petaled ground-

But now we carry you in our hearts forever more.

Mistake me not;

This is no goodbye,

This is just a simple way of saying thank you.

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