The Doubs

This poem about is about love and The Doubs (the DOO), a river in France.

I learned of the Doubs, a river in eastern France, while reading a dictionary. Yep, I'm odd. I enjoy reading dictionaries, encyclopedias, novels, short stories, food packaging, and pretty much anything written in English. I read other languages, too, but they're usually a little more difficult to understand.



The Doubs

The myst of night drifts softly o'er the lawn
where nearby flows the Doubs,
and o'er the fields, the pristine rays of dawn
bring hope and thoughts of you.

The lights of Paris dim beside the stars
within your loving eyes,
my view of which, the distance ne'er debars
nor shadows e'er disguise.

I dream beside the splash of stars and moon;
beside the dancing Doubs.
I dream of perfect days bygone in June
in perfect love with you.