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Le belle Provence

What is love?
But heart felt romance
Once perfected
In the province of France

They speak love
And utter it true
Unto each other
And under the moon

You can’t find it alone
Though you can feel it for free
A gift from a lover
Or someone so sweet

Whether you hold hands
Or make it as fact
They way you lock eyes
And never retract

It is kept so true
By holding a lie
For it’s no ones right
To ask for a why?

Who would be it?
With the taste of clamour
Subtle it is
The women want more

A bright lit kiss
Under the pines
In the belle province
She’ll always be mine

Is it love? A sign?
It’s perfected with time
A night under starlight
Breathing the wine

If my heart is stole
Would she cherish me whole?
If she is one to remember
I will remember her soul

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