Carefully, I break off a piece,
I hear the crackling of the crust,
Warm and toasty in my hands,
Smelling its fresh scent.
I bite through it.
And the cotton-like,
Softness coils my tongue,
Captures my mind,
Back through time,
I stand still.

I picture the fragrant trees of Paris,
Parallel and aligned,
My imagination crosses
The scene,
To a boy riding on his bicycle.
The merveilleux language
Shoots into my ears,
But like a bird,
It drifts across my mind.
A pigeon camouflages into the trees
As I look up
The majestic Eiffel Tower,
Above.

I pass an aged man,
With old eyes,
As he paints a picturesque women.
I gaze over La Seine,
How the sun,
Glistens on the surface,
Creates a carpet of diamonds.

A Honk of a bus suddenly wakens me.
I open my longing eyes,
Glance out the window to see
Tall skyscrapers and vivid lights.
As I take another bite.