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“ Friend ” – a singular entitlement –

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“ Friend ”

        – a singular entitlement –

Why do they call me friend…





What is their cause





Or purpose





To judge me worthy,





That they should levy





Such expression of regard,





Entrust this much





Responsibility,





To be bestowed





Upon my person,





Thus be asked to manage





With this impressive status…















And to this title friend





A singular entitlement,





Who finds possess





Such impartiality,





Could deem me deserving





Or indeed of capability,





To discharge such obligation





Required and implied,





One has that ability





When one is given title,





That of being called friend…










Why do they call me friend!





 





                                         © Jean-Jacques Fournier





                                                                           written in Vence





                                                                                     March 19, 2002





Photos – by MD & Private collection 





Music – by Elegant Saturday Jazz






			

			
						

	
	



			
				



	
	


		
					

				 by 			

				
“ Colour Me Human ”   ~ in the colour of life ~

	


		

		
 


Colour me human


Be her ambition


In world to imbue,


With exacting will


Wants vibrant hue,


Says ‘tis reflection


Of colours be true,


In shades held free


Save colour of blue,


Wouldst imply sad


Begs colour renew,


In the colour of life


Be the colour of you…


 


So colour me please


That I hypothesize,


To accept with ease


I’ll find empathize,


Fading life shades


May not so apprise,


We’ll soon turn blue


In a dank shady haze,


Not colour you chose


To best colour me too!


 



		
	

			

	
	



			
				



	
	


		
					

				 by 			

				
” To Reinvent ”  ~ one more time ~

	


		

		
 


Life tends imply


It be no longer,


Than a wink


Or a wave goodbye,


So reach to think


Of years lucent,


As time wears thin


And soon be spent,                   


When soul therein


Suggest ones done


From life now spun,


Hence without fuss


Foster what ye must


For one more time,


Thus so to reinvent!


 


 

			

	
	



			
				



	
	


		
					

				 by 			

				
“ A Place ”  ~ said singular ~

	


		

		
 


You’re there


At a place


Said singular,


Once a figment


Of mind’s eye,                                              


Implied nous


Said life past


Was overdrive


In make believe,


But now its real


Enough to feel,


The real meaning


Of being alive!