Faces I’d known
Seem now gather,
To not be alone
Prowl my head,
In serene manner
For days ahead,
Suffer lose matter,
Hence to remind
What’s left of time,
We thought forever
Be state of mind,
Too soon we find
Be marginal ever!
Poetry on a canapé
A journey through Jean-Jacques Fournier's poetry
Poetry on a canapé 
Sounds poignantly and romantically Wordsworth-like. Lovely.
What honour you bestow upon this grateful scribble. Wordsworth’s like is the stuff of the ultimate goal for we modest writers. Thank you Paulette. Jean-Jacques
I really like the way you present “lose” and “find.” To me, that is the essence of our experience. Thoughtful discussion. Thank you.
Thank you for your perceptive insight, on one of my attempts at understanding forever. As is in keeping with your enviable strengths, you have that ability of exposing what speaks or motivates aspects of interest… Jean-Jacques
Best from Paris, France