The City of Light lay before me, shining
through the night. Such beauty I had
never seen, and I was breathless at the sight.
Sacre Couer gleamed from its hillock, while the
Arche de Triumph stood proud, and the somber
Notre Dame was brooding, while through the
city the Sienne plowed. The river meandered,
unconcerned, through that mass of glass and stone.
It ran playfully along the streets, amidst spires and
graceful domes. It is a city of whom the muses sing,
in poems and in tomes. But all of this is nothing.
In my mind it does not compare, to the wonder
and the joy I felt, simply standing there. Because
you were there beside me, warm in the evening chill.
And in my dreams I'm once again there, standing with
you still.