Sunday morning New OrleansA Poem by Barbara Borel
How I long to be with you, rolling in Sunday morning New Orleans. Gazing at art in the Square, eating beignets and sipping Cafe Ole'. Listening to Street musicians perform. Hearing the music, only in New Orleans, music, coming from the doorways of the French Quarter. How I wish to walk hand-in-hand, hearing the footsteps of the horse-drawn carriages that carry the lovers through this beautiful city. We would smell the Aromas from all the best restaurants in the world. We will hear the drums from the Congo square and sit by the river watching the ships go by. We will light candles at the Cathedral for all of the lost-souls of this heartbroken city. Walking in the city of New Orleans we will see the beauty with all of our eyes yet feel it with one soul. We will feel all of the lovers that walk before us. This city is not meant to be walked alone. My city, my love, your love, and our love.
© 2016 Barbara BorelFeatured Review
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1 Review Added on December 4, 2016 Last Updated on December 4, 2016 AuthorBarbara BorelMetairie , LAAboutBorn and raised in New Orleans. Use words as a way of expressing myself. I dont write for an audience or to get praise or please anyone. Writing is therapy. In my eyes expressing words in paper... th.. more.. |

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