28 January 2013
A procession of candlelight, burning Revealing Images of classic architecture; The Eiffel Tower, The Arc de Triomph, and a cathedral in the Île de la Cité, Where she sat, head bowed, hands in prayer, Not just pretty, but classically, Beautiful. My Notra Dame de Paris
Children shuffle in to the cathedral, Flames illuminating religion in a Mural so inspirational, That audible gasps ring out from the Congregation, their wonder palpable
But I am lost in an angelic vision, Of this girl lost in her religion, Like a statue, motionless in stone, A classic work of art, carved In Rome, she is bathed in candlelight, A girl anyone might think was the Virgin Mary, come to sit, on a pew, An apothecary for the drug of life, In my addicted, love inflicted eyes.
Exquisite choral music begins, As each candle is dipped in tiny chalices of Scented oil, which is inflammable, but Magnificently luminescent, Each one given to each child as a present, For their participation in the candlelit procession.
And then she awakens. Her eyes are the colour of fire, Her hair is the colour of sun, Her passion my desire, My life just begun,
In Paris, by candlelight.
In Paris, By Candlelight • Opuss № I