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12/14/2019
pudelbonzo
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pudelbonzo
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18
A little luck...
... will be great once - if you can only wait, then it will also fall into your lap - Adamo sang in the seventies.
I liked to hear him, because his songs, performed with a strong French accent, were mostly funny to original.
Frankophile can also listen to the song at Petite Bonheur.
Perhaps this also fits better with the light-footed scent that danced towards me tres chique et tres Francais.
Just like a Parisian woman who crosses the hair-raising streets of Paris with fast steps and self-confidence - her little poodle tribbles along self-confidently.
The scene seems extremely charming - and by no means arrogant.
The two pretty ones know that they are perceived - even without much fuss.
She wears bonheur, and also appreciates a little luck.
A cup of coffee in the bistro, a smile of a stranger, the cute encounter of her poodle with an interested pug.
Musette music sounds over - what more does she need for her luck?
She enjoys the moment - because she knows that happiness is not a regular guest.
The poem goes through your mind:
Happiness is a light whore
she doesn't like being in the same place,
she strokes your hair out of your forehead
and gently kisses you -
and flutters away.
She smiles quietly into herself - and her little dog jumps onto her lap.
I liked to hear him, because his songs, performed with a strong French accent, were mostly funny to original.
Frankophile can also listen to the song at Petite Bonheur.
Perhaps this also fits better with the light-footed scent that danced towards me tres chique et tres Francais.
Just like a Parisian woman who crosses the hair-raising streets of Paris with fast steps and self-confidence - her little poodle tribbles along self-confidently.
The scene seems extremely charming - and by no means arrogant.
The two pretty ones know that they are perceived - even without much fuss.
She wears bonheur, and also appreciates a little luck.
A cup of coffee in the bistro, a smile of a stranger, the cute encounter of her poodle with an interested pug.
Musette music sounds over - what more does she need for her luck?
She enjoys the moment - because she knows that happiness is not a regular guest.
The poem goes through your mind:
Happiness is a light whore
she doesn't like being in the same place,
she strokes your hair out of your forehead
and gently kisses you -
and flutters away.
She smiles quietly into herself - and her little dog jumps onto her lap.
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