I woke up this autumn Sunday morning with papier-mâché clouds performing like a ticker-tape parade from left to right a strong breeze doodling fall leaves to flight The birds are just gliding, no flapping in sight.
Today’s a free day, a don’t mess with me day. I’ve no homework, or assignments it’s like I’ve escaped from confinement even my coffee tasted like creamy freedom.
What do you do when you don’t have to do anything? Why, I could write a play, like Mozart, or an opera, like Shakespeare - if I were THAT smart - but don’t those sound like academic effort to you?
I want to hold hands in the park and promenade, Peter loves strolling the flower markets by the Seine, a gelato at Amorino after lunch at the Saint James cafe, and the rain or shine street art at Rue Saint-Rustique.
Isn’t boyfriend-time the best way to spend a Sunday? . . Songs for this: Waterguns (feat. Tom Bailey) by Caravan Palace Backyard Boy by Claire Rosinkranz Dreamin' by G. Love & Special Sauce