Elegantly tall and slim
The face a cool façade
Of competence; no-one sees in
The world is far too hard
Hair of gold, expertly coiffed
Her nails are manicured
And filed; pretty but not too soft
Her aura: self-assured.
She reclines against the chair
Commands of the garçon
A thé-au-lait; a regal stare-
He runs to be her pawn
Dark glasses reveal soft eyes
A smile touches her lips
Secret; her true persona she must hide
From work relationships
Her life may not be easy
But one pleasure’s undenied
To sit on the Champs-Elysées
And watch the world go by
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem