Life in Marseilles and Orange (part 2) 📸 @tomo.y9

Life in Marseilles and Orange (part 2)

📸 @tomo.y9

Beneath the lamp's amber sigh,

A sentinel rests where shadows lie.

Life in Marseilles—soft, unspoken,

A mosaic of whispers, fragments broken.

Orange, the feline, a flame in the night,

Eyes of copper, reflecting light.

Guardian of stillness, paws of grace,

An ancient spirit in a transient space.

Cobblestones cradle forgotten dreams,

Where silence hums, and history streams.

Through the café's window, lives unfurl,

In hues of laughter, in a solitary whirl.

But Orange waits, steadfast and true,

A seeker of hearts, a thread to renew.

For life in Marseilles breathes through its streets,

In every glance, in the soul it meets.

Where lamps flicker and twilight calls,

The city speaks as the evening falls.

Each wall a canvas, worn and weathered,

By tales of wanderers, lost and tethered.

Orange walks with purpose slight,

A bridge between shadow and light.

His tail a pen, his steps a prose,

Writing the paths where the city grows.

Beneath his paws, the stories churn,

Of lovers parted, of those who return.

Each stone he graces, a memory remains,

Of joy, of longing, of ancient pains.

In his gaze, the Rhône's silver gleam,

Flowing through Marseilles' dream.

He sees the faces, forgotten by time,

And weaves them into his feline rhyme.

Life in Marseilles is fleeting, they say,

Yet Orange endures, night and day.

The café hums with murmured tones,

While he gathers the city's scattered bones.

A final glance, his eyes meet yours,

And suddenly, he unlocks closed doors.

For in his presence, you start to see,

The threads of your own eternity.

So linger there, where shadows cling,

Where Orange rules as twilight’s king.

For life in Marseilles, though fleeting and strange,

Becomes eternal in Orange’s range.

©poembyselly

📸 @tomo.y9