I walk alone
along the same path as Matisse.
Near the river I find a bench and sit reading
Colette, lost with Claudine.
In my hand is a little gift bag
I could not resist earlier buying yet another silk slip dress and robe
I am so charmed by the boutiques and tried on many dresses yesterday guiltily buying more I do not need.
Earlier I picked up a painting from a street artist.
There are cute guys on vespas and dashing waiters.
Inside my handbag sits a notebook of scribblings of exhibitions, restaurants and the number of my hotel because I’m a little old-fashioned like that.
I even have a plain papered notebook and pencils so I can draw when the mood inspires.
I find a beautiful café and sit prettily with my
Almond croissant and coffee
Parisian landmarks in the distance
I attempt to sketch all that I see
and it’s a unique blur of people, places and
fine details upon the cream pages
Bohemian pretensions
are betrayed as I
tiptoe to Hermès
gifting myself a scarf
I walk out with my hair down, fiddling I tie my hair into a low side ponytail with my new silk scarf.
Inside I am Longing to stay at a Palatial hotel…
By the end of the afternoon, I am walking along the Pont Alexandre III and the gilded statues emits the last glow of gold before the night comes.
Poem from poetry book Bohemian Love
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