# Lady Strange From Rouen



## Truvianni (Apr 21, 2011)

A poem about a young French lady from Rouen who came in to my life more than 20 years ago and left it just after ours had ended. 

Mon Catherine cher 
for it now seems so long ago 
almost another life or 
dreams never realized that ours was
for only memories remain 
in a mind lacking in certainty 
of authenticity 

Mon Catherine cher 
the score plus two have buried my emotions 
shared for the one who had seen five more years 
than I upon the last of teens and innocence 
from ye oh female essence in stage of beauty 

Mon Catherine cher 
it was but a chance encounter on eve of the old year 
that introduced ye lady divine of Rouen on to he 
of utmost worship to thine loveliness 
oh, femme Francaise 

Mon Catherine cher 
from la France ye came 
mane a black in curls so much like the delicacy 
in ye with eyes bright emerald green 
while fine features comprise the rest of visage 
so caring of thine message 

Oh, mon Catherine cher 
how I so infantile took to ye 
mature woman of mystery ways 
body full triumph to thine breast 
pale in contrast of thine crimson rose 
so exquisite to peak at stroke but mine 
leading my taste down valley supple 
in lust to thine most exclusive of locks 
a dark to grow cover to ye dwelling 
so coveted by all instinct of masculinity 
so strongly compelled by ye

Oh, lady strange of Rouen 
we had volcanic passion beyond the flesh or 
base words as love or sexuality 
bold and strong with intensity was it 
to points of what not could be for long 
extreme feeling in us we could not control 
to change our nature to play roles 
when in the other’s society as to be 
strangers to ourselves 

Yes, lady strange of Rouen 
we did once in an époque of reality adore 
for sure all yet brief as the fortnight 
for lava ardent is not to last 
for all things it be lacking 
compromise to be less than total


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