Poetry

La mode francaise

We’ve done it once again, mon Dieu!
Yet again we failed to see
that we were still in France, alas,
and cappuccino had one “p”.

The girl who smiled her savoir faire
as we enquired “Italiano?”
then scorched the milk with quite a flourish
would get no work beside the Arno.

Ja Ja Si Si

The joy of the self-evident …
the way they lazily agree
from north to south all over Europe,
the ja, ja, ja the si, si, si.

What is it they agree upon?
The sun is up? The weather’s fine?
Some hard-earned, late serenity
offering the world a sign?

Geoff Page

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