"Once upon a time, in the twentieth century…"
and it's as if time blindly turned a corner,
slipped from view. Why don't we catch
the next time-warp, fly backward;
why don't we find that lost address
where fate or chance
brought me to you?
There used to be cafes and boulevards
where we could stray entranced,
romantics with the keys to make-believe
clutched in our hands;
there used to be musicians
who knew how to play
a slow, sweet dance
when lights are dim -
nostalgic, dreamy,
perfect for the mood I'm in…
Now all that, inexplicably,
seems very far away,
in another century,
once upon a vanished day…
Une petite chanson nostalgique
© Copyright: Jena Woodhouse, 2004
Свидетельство о публикации №104020100825
Свидетельство о публикации №104020100825
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