Promises, Promises... Poem by Theodora (Theo) Onken

He always spoke with an accent
French was so becoming to him
Many romantic dinners at bistro's
And our new love borne on a whim;

He always gave me roses...
And spoke of romance upon the Seine
With promises of April love
And eternal sunshine with no more rain;

He always spoke of the City of Light
And all of the love waiting there for me
A love as tall as the Eiffel Tower
And as deep as the mighty sea;


By, Theodora Onken

October 18,2016