On the fifth morn of vacance in France’s embrace, With my Chris, the planner, we share this space, Now in Nice’s gentle clutch, a Riviera dream, We rode the rails to Ventimiglia’s stream.
Crossing borders with the ease of a train’s sigh, Italy’s charm beneath the same azure sky, Ventimiglia’s kiss, a fleeting affair, We basked in its warmth, an idyllic pair.
Returned on whispers of the cool autumn breeze, To Nice, our respite, hearts at ease. A pastis in hand, anise’s sweet balm, A nap’s soft surrender, a soul-soothing calm.
Awake and adrift on Nice’s paved sea, Where old stones hum tales of history’s decree. Through alleys we meander, hand in hand, Amidst the whispers of this sun-kissed land.
An alcove of cuisine beckons us near, A side street’s secret that only few hear. The charm of a table, just for deux, Under stars that in French skies grew.
Here, ratatouille’s zest meets our taste, In layered symphony, not a hint of haste. A mousse au chocolat’s rich, dark sweep, In a dance of flavors, bold yet deep.
Chris, my dearest, the architect of days, In this French sojourn, your love displays. Each moment a brushstroke in our shared lore, In Nice’s embrace, who could ask for more?
So here’s to our journey, to love’s tender thrill, On this fifth day in France, time seems still. For in each other’s gaze, we quietly confide, With every shared sunset, love’s never denied.
On the fifth morn of vacance in France’s embrace, With my Chris, the planner, we share this space, Now in Nice’s gentle clutch, a Riviera dream, We rode the rails to Ventimiglia’s stream.
Crossing borders with the ease of a train’s sigh, Italy’s charm beneath the same azure sky, Ventimiglia’s kiss, a fleeting affair, We basked in its warmth, an idyllic pair.
Returned on whispers of the cool autumn breeze, To Nice, our respite, hearts at ease. A pastis in hand, anise’s sweet balm, A nap’s soft surrender, a soul-soothing calm.
Awake and adrift on Nice’s paved sea, Where old stones hum tales of history’s decree. Through alleys we meander, hand in hand, Amidst the whispers of this sun-kissed land.
An alcove of cuisine beckons us near, A side street’s secret that only few hear. The charm of a table, just for deux, Under stars that in French skies grew.
Here, ratatouille’s zest meets our taste, In layered symphony, not a hint of haste. A mousse au chocolat’s rich, dark sweep, In a dance of flavors, bold yet deep.
Chris, my dearest, the architect of days, In this French sojourn, your love displays. Each moment a brushstroke in our shared lore, In Nice’s embrace, who could ask for more?
So here’s to our journey, to love’s tender thrill, On this fifth day in France, time seems still. For in each other’s gaze, we quietly confide, With every shared sunset, love’s never denied.
randy marcotte - uncle randy writes here 