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Sheila Knowles - Bohemia's haze

2014-06-13 28 Dailymotion

How am I supposed to inspire the world <br />from an ageing office chair <br />or leave my mark for generations to ponder <br />while staring past the debris on my desk. <br /> <br />I should be having love affairs in Paris, <br />blowing Gauloises smoke rings <br />into the heady Parisian air <br />while drinking coffee <br />at a small roadside café, <br />reading Jean Paul Sartre and Albert Camus; <br />toying with whatever philosophy holds <br />the flavour of the day. <br /> <br />At night I could fan out my hair <br />on the hardwood floor <br />and lay beneath the paint chipped corniced ceiling <br />while draped in musty velvet curtains; <br />my legs and arms <br />wrapped around your Chablis scented intellect, <br />and you would read to me while leaning on the wrought-iron balconies <br />and we would make love in the Paris air under warm rains <br />that would cleanse this dust from my lungs <br /> <br />I could be dangling my thoughts <br />in Venetian canals, <br />running barefoot over bridges <br />while hiding my face behind the city’s masks; <br />or live for a while <br />in an old stone cottage <br />on the edge of a cliff <br />where you could teach me <br />how to see like an artist. <br />At night we would paint our pleasures <br />on the flagstone floor <br />etching our days <br />onto stretched canvas <br />We could cycle along <br />the canals of Amsterdam; <br />the Autumn breezes <br />chilling our bare hands. <br />And afterwards <br />stop to warm our inspiration <br />in the hazy light of a coffee shop <br />and open ourselves <br />to the infinite. <br /> <br />But I find myself here <br />in this cold office <br />tapping my fingers <br />to the mundane beat of my days <br />and I don’t know who <br />or where you are.<br /><br />Sheila Knowles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bohemia-s-haze/

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