Along the Seine she walks beneath the soft lamplit honeyed air.
In Montmatres hush where time dissolves like wine.
His laughter curls like smoke in a velvet night.
Each word is spoken of his love he whispers her name
The violins play Hymne of Love.
Michael Cochrane ©️ 2026
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem