Our Man in Europe, dave delacroix....Francois Villion Boogie.

Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix....Francois Villion Boogie.






....SINGING....


Where are the Streets of yesteryear
 in clouded memory,
 yet poignant, my eyes BLINK,
 the window of lucidity, focus, imagination.


Ou sans LES RUE d-antan
 like a fading APPLAUSE,
 re-vitalized BY THE GODS,
 the Theatre-s TOP-most=audience TIERS....Bravo!
...who EVER wonder at a Stranieri,
 a Lime-light, a Gas-lit, a Spectro-LASER light,
 a-lit she DANCED, she \SANG,
 we ROARED and she bowed...


Where are the streets of my YESTERDAY,
 Deborah, RAN THE sowing-shop.
 Fix my Zipper, or hem my Pantaloon,
 a dollar or two, a Pop!
. Gwendal, Missus Gwendal to YOU,
 fix your SHOES,
 her daughter baked Beef-Potato Pies.
 And Doc Meyer who CURED Man,
Woman and beast
 until he lost sight in his own eyes.


u sans les Boulevard de JOY
that whiskers TIME-s ephiphany
and cuts it to MAN to BOY
or cuddles GIRL into WOMAN
and Spring becomes a joy,
the march of TIME,
a BAUDELAIRE, invitation
a voyage....








c2019,davedelacroix.....Vicola la Marca, Sciacca-Sicily.