We first met entirely by accident
On a lovely bright sunny day in Spring,
It was the first of May as I recall;
Even now I remember it clearly,
Although almost four decades have passed by.
Strolling along the Boulevard Haussmann,
Just outside the Magasin au Printemps.
I wasn't looking where I was going,
Daydreaming as usual, distracted
By the pretty girls selling their bunches
Of lily of the valley, their sweet scent
Evoking pleasant thoughts of past amours
And rich with the promise of future joys
In the arms of a beautiful woman.
*****
You could say we bumped into each other,
But more truthfully I barged into her,
Literally knocking you off balance
So that she almost fell to the pavement,
But after teetering on her high heels
For a few anxious heart-stopping-moments,
Thankfully she regained your composure,
Although she had to drop her packages
In their colourful beribboned wrappings
Scattered in disarray around my feet.
I stooped to retrieve them and as I rose,
I blurted out words of apology,
Shamefaced by my unthinking boorishness.
Which she accepted with graciousness.
*****
“S’il vous plaît accepter mes excuses sincères,
C’était très maladroit de moi Mademoiselle,
Laissez-moi vous aider avec ces choses,”
I said in my very best schoolboy French.
“Thank you Monsieur,” she replied, “pas de mal,
And it’s Madame,” indicating the ring
On her right hand — which, she later told me,
Was the custom of her Spanish mother,
Although she herself was a Frenchwoman,
By virtue of having a French father.
“You must allow me to buy you coffee,”
I said, “and perhaps a patisserie,”
But she demurred, saying she was busy,
Suggesting dinner that evening instead.
*****
I blanched a little inwardly at the name
Of the little restaurant she mentioned,
Which, although excellent, was expensive,
But she was so charming and beautiful
That I agreed without a further thought.
Besides I was entranced by the prospect
Of an enjoyable and diverting
Evening in the intimate company
Of such a captivating young lady;
And the delicious possibility
Of a mutually pleasant affair
Caused my amorous heart to beat faster –
The French are much more sophisticated
About matters of sex than we British.
*****
We did not become lovers that evening,
Although she admitted that her marriage
Still remained unconsummated after
More than five years, her elderly husband
Seemingly uninterested in sex,
Or more probably, he was impotent.
He was a widow with grown up children,