Just me and the pots and the pans
In my own little world
With my hands in the water,
My mind goes around the world.
The peace, the quiet, the solitude
As my mind soars over France
We take journeys every day
Just me and the pots and the pans
To Italy, Spain, Morocco, Istanbul and Budapest
Dancing the night away in Rio
Or hitting the tables in Monaco
There’s nary a place we don’t travel
Just me and the pots and the pans.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sure do know where this one came from. Well done. Read mine - A Writers Dlemma - Adeline