On the Streets of Paris

‘Twas the wretched dream again.

Reminding me of a glorious day,

A time that my memory refuses to forget.

‘Twas a balmy summery day.

I wandered the streets of Paris again.

Where the trees bloomed decorously

Casting shadows on empty lanes.

There were bustling shops selling

Tiny trinkets and many souvenirs.

Parisian buildings were everywhere.

With the prettiest-looking artistic balconies

I stopped a moment to absorb the view

Then, ended up clicking just a photo of you

– A fallen abandoned leaf by my feet.

Kidding,

Somewhere in a French Patisserie

At 5:00 AM, the warm yellow lights turn on every day in the back of the bakery. 

Marie gets busy with all the work that lays ahead of her in the day. She prepares herself, dusts her hands with flour and begins to knead the dough. She kneads the dough long and gently though. 

There is flour on her apron, hands, and strands of hair that fall often on her face. From the pantry to the kitchen, she runs around gathering ingredients. 

In a large bowl, she sieves the dry ingredients into the flour. In another bowl, she whisks the wet ingredients. She works with the intensity of a controlled hurricane. 

Now and then, she checks on her pastry and bread dough. Kneading them long and gently though. 

She works on the bread on one side while simultaneously working on a fluffy chocolate mousse. 

She whisks warm whipping cream with cacao powder in a bowl. In another, she mixes milk, sugar, and cornflour. Folding in the batter smoothly until it all comes together.

She pours this mixture into a saucepan and turns on the flame. She adds chunks of dark chocolate into the concoction and starts stirring till it turns into a mini brown whirlpool in the pan. 

She stirs and stirs until it becomes delectably dark and gooey. She pours this into a baking tray for cooling. She drizzles some cocoa powder on the chocolate mousse just before sliding the tray into the refrigerator.

She dusts her apron briefly and goes back to kneading a new dough again. 

Like this, Marie passionately bakes away every single day. Tirelessly, making wonderful pastries in her French patisserie. 

woman in restaurant wearing apron

Photo by Davide Baraldi on Pexels.com

 

 

Light seeped in

Through a cracked window

Illuminating the room.

Paint brushes and stained cloth

Lay scattered on the

Greying dusty wooden floor.

An artist worked tirelessly

Somewhere in a corner.

Dustful Dreams

Yesterday, he called me in my dreams

Strolling in the dark green meadows

I turned around to look at him

Then walked away.

Next thing I know,

He is by my side

Giggling and questioning me with his eyes.

So I stop and ask, “Who are you?”

To which he replied “Your daemon.”