It's a nice day in Paris,
A chilly afternoon.
At a tourist cafe,
With an Italian Painter,
Chatting about the French language.
"Why would you write about Dan's Amour?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well it's Dan's thing, seems personal to him."
"No, no, I wrote about dans amour."
"Yes that's what I said, Dan's Amour!"
Sigh
Another poem painting onto the world of, "The Gray Man Of Paris," I like these little light hearted ones.
