Am I a failure, or a success? Honest answer, I don’t know. My little book has been out there for nearly two weeks now, as with my blog despite many pleas I have had little feedback, which as a creative person is very disappointing. However, yesterday I took ten copies of the book to a shop and they agreed to buy them all.

We watch little TV, but there is one particular show we like about antiques, a phrase came up which woke up the mischievous imp in me, that phrase was “Trompe l’oeil” a French phrase meaning to deceive the eye, usually an image painted onto a flat surface to give the impression of depth That phrase is usually pronounced TRUMP loy.

I can’t make the following match the prompt, but what the heck, I like it.

Modern Romance.

We met on line, both stranded in time, souls lost upon the ocean
We’d both reached out across the net, each looking for devotion
She from the south I from the north, seemingly poles apart
We met in Leicester as she suggested for the mingling of our hearts

Love at first sight, I had no fright, she was the one for me
She looked at me as if I was a long lost lover, returned from ‘cross the sea
We commuted a while, but it wasn’t our style, she soon moved to Sheffield
I could feel a sense calm like cooling balm my loneliness being healed

She had her flat I had mine, we had the world we had the time
She’d been loved before, she knew the score, but soon she would be mine
In the park going dark, rain beginning to fall, back to my place for some shelter
She took off her coat looked a little remote I thought maybe I could melt her.

We were feeling fine, we’d had some wine, sat comfy on the sofa
Now was the time I put down my wine, slipped my arm around her shoulder
I could feel the warmth of her through her blouse , her hand was on my lap
We looked into each other’s eyes, we kissed, she whispered in my ear have you got the app?

Apologies for Word Editor, it seems so reluctant to allow me to set out my poems as I wish.

All words Meadhead Bard.