Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Paris Holds The Key To Your Heart

Cuties outside the Quai Branly,

sipping champagne on the street,

as they stare with starry eyed wonder at the ever present Eiffel Tower.

She had followed them all over the city,

always staring from the skyline,

blushing, hiding behind the soft clouds of the summer sky,

she had waited patiently for our heroines to arrive.

Standing tall as two sirens approach,

sipping champagne and smiling in selfies,

as the sun sparkles up above,

shining down on their happy afternoon,

and the Eiffel Tower’s bashful, blushing cheeks.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Two Girls Go To Paris

Two beautiful babes on board the Eurostar,

pink sunglasses and perfectly applied lipstick.

The clouds have crept from the sky,

all that remains is dazzling, brilliant sunshine,

and the girls look pretty on their passports,

passing landmarks as they lean into each other’s shoulders,

champagne, gentle and delicious on perfectly painted lips.

Two angels,

aching for adventure,

one mastering the tongue as the train runs faster and faster,

while the other writes a little verse,

about how wonderful it is to have a friend.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

La Vie En Rose

Painting a picture of us,

with excited and exhausted eyelashes,

pure and passionate,

on the pavements of Paris.

Walking with wide eyes,

rues of roses,

rare moments,

where we can be alone,

wrapped in each other’s arms,

wrapped up in a dream.


Regret leaks onto the landscape,

for the future is so far,

and I am alone,


but warmed by the bittersweet joy of waiting,

consumed by wanderlust,

consuming carefree days,

where the weather will be dreary,

but my dearest love,

will spill sunshine,

across the street,

when he looks at me.


Filling my mouth,

with foods,

and feelings I can’t pronounce.

Crème brûlée.

I can’t survive without you.

Mousse au chocolat.

(I said I couldn’t pronounce it…)

You are the love of my life.

Lipgloss, gone,

a single cigarette,


alight on a balcony,

between two hearts,

two kisses,

then three,




Cool air of autumn winds,

kick up the leaves,

all around us,

surrounded by aspiration,

inspiration for my next book,

and our first set of holiday photos,

that will lay forgotten,

until we fight,

until we have to find our way back,

to that day,

where I tried a new food,

after several exhausting minutes,

of menu meandering,

and you tried to pretend you finally believed,

as I pulled you into a fortune teller’s lair,

with a little kiss.



and love,

are never as simple,

not always as beautiful,

as the picture I have in my mind,

of Paris.

Life is not La Vie En Rose,

I can’t pretend that we,

or gay Paris,

shall always be perfect,

unscathed by the uncertainties of the world,

and it’s unfortunate unpredictability,


my love,

it’s only you,

for me,

and me,

for you,

for life.