A young woman sitting, waiting for something
Or perhaps someone, or is just a pause.
His face is charming but I frown,
For I see a drop hanging from her eyelashes.
Is it a remnant of wavy glass that hits the
This station loud, like the ant,
Houses for some time, a crowd of people
Perplexed, regulars, eager or hesitant?
Is that a pearl of sweat after having run
Through this vast concourse?
Concerned by the risk of missing the train, missed
Sesame distant horizons.
Is it, as Pierrot, a tear eternal
injury will keep it in the deepest of her?
symbol of an impossible love or finished. The
he has abandoned or has she fled?
But why this drop remains "she hung up,
Refusing, on the cheek to slide?
Like an aquamarine dress natural
It attracts attention and makes the woman beautiful.
Belle by the mystery surrounding this moment
special moment in the middle these people and stressed
conformists who refuse adventure
And ignore the world's nose in their shoes.
I must unravels this mystery, this secret.
Just the time to punch my ticket.
I see the machine work of art incongruous
A "click", I turn around, the lady has disappeared!
On tiptoe, I look at the crowd
Who undulates and flows back, much like the swell
From coast wild and never rested,
in which the unknown is gone, drowned!
I will never know it was this gem,
This ornament discrete wants me this poem. And it is
Thinking back to the text of Antoine Pol
What I leave, frustrated, going up my neck.
January 2011
As she thought, rightly, that for some time, this blog lacked color Persilya sent me this lovely picture, and I thank her warmly.
As she thought, rightly, that for some time, this blog lacked color Persilya sent me this lovely picture, and I thank her warmly. 
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