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Always the Paris dreamer

written by robin

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If I look up, almost anywhere in Paris. I see beauty all around me.   It may only be calling to me.  Whispering in my ear.  Taunting me.  "Psst, look over here. "  "Hey, look up here, on your right."  I get dizzy dancing round an round in circles, admiring all the lovely scenes.

I love everything about this picture.  The large peach-hued stone blocks, the ornate stone statuary with the odd face, the cobalt blue enameled street sign, the contrast of the scrolled iron balustrade.  And the shutters. I love the shutters.  Closing out the world below, only inviting me in for a peak when someone is ready.  A perfect Paris shot.  It spoke to me. The only thing missing is ze sexzee Frenchman, looking down at me on the rue, winking and beckoning me to come up to share a bottle of his favorite vin rouge and a gourmet French meal he prepared himself. Or maybe , it would be an adorable older French woman, inviting me in for cafe au lait and to show me her lovely home, decorated with the finest French antiques. 

Well, a girl can dream, can’t she?   

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