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