Preamble: This is my first and only attempt to date at writing a poem in French. So, please forgive any potentially faulty grammar. ps: I planned to put a Google translation in English at the end, for those of you who may not read French, but it just doesn’t sound as good to my ears. Actually, I’m not sure it sounds good in French either. Wink, wink.

Je Propose

Qu’est-ce tu dit? Qu’es-t-en pense?

Après tout on n’ai plus en enfance.

On réagit comme adultes tous les jours.

Ce n’ai pas dûr la décision de faire l’amour.

Ça ce dit avec grand désire”

“Je te veux pour partager des plaisirs.”

Des touches, des becs, des caresses

Et ensuite on se laisse

Aller dans les bras de nature

Qui nous dirige vers plaisirs pures.

Alors, voici mon offre, tu peu le lire.

C’est très simple, je te désire.

Bien, qu’es-t-en pense? Qu’es-t-en dit?

As-tu une réponse a mon humble récit?

Originally written Oc 20, 1997

From my Madrid files on the Pub Storytellers nights. Where an eclectic group of expats, troubadours, and assorted, sodden wordsmiths gathered twice a week to share a few pints, tell many tall tales, and lessen our loneliness at our favorite Irish Pub in Madrid, Spain, back in 1997-98. I kept my scribbles from these nights and the poems that grew out of the stories I told. This is the first time I’ve ever published these. I hope you enjoy them.

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