My first Love
I met you at Cafe de Margots
A beautiful sunny morning in Paris
Me...The american man in a foreign land
You...The belle of the land.
We takled and spoke of life and love
You took my hand and made your stand.
'Meet me at L'Hotel D'Paris' you said
Fearful I paused but my heart said yes.
The hour approaches
I am wearing the colours of your country
Blue jacket, white pants, red striped shirt.
WOW! My heart beats as I see you
wearing your turqoise taffeta sundress.
We are to dine at L'Tour de Eiffel
I am living a dream
I offer to pay...She insists she must
for she asked me. We venture down the
streets of Paris We embrace in a waterfall.
You taught me the meaning of Love.
Walking Hand in Hand...Arm In Arm
Approaching The Hotel Of Paris
Ascending to the room
Undressing and Drying each other off passionately...simultaneously
You wear my white cotton dress shirt and a beautiful pink thong
Putting the Beautiful French Music On.
Sabrina...You Dance Around Me
Take Me in Your Arms
This Man in a Foreign Land...Fallen Prey to your charms.
We Make Love all night inside each others silken bodies.
The morning comes early
Things to do...Studies ahead
Understanding that this may come to an end
'Sabrina I understand if you are not here when I return'
Responding quickly 'No, No I will be here I want to be with you'
Sabrina, Thank you
For You Have taught me what Love Is
You Have Taught Me What Love Is.
Peter B LeBuhn
Peter LeBuhn's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (My first Love by Peter LeBuhn )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
(1207 - 1273)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(10 February 1970-)
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