This is 'by' my alter-ego Thom Topham (Google 'him' if you like). He's like Ziggy Stardust to my David Bowie. Peruse his #MutimediaEBook 'My Unplanned Obsolescence' here: thomtopham.wordpress.com/about
Everything in the narrative happened in real life. 1987, or 8, I think.
The Beauty And The Beast
A tale of two cities, a fifties movie in monochrome,
reading Tarot in The Tuilleries, they saw that France would be her home.
The wine was velvet valium, as they dined by candlelight,
talking of their conquests and laughing with delight.
They danced with Gallic cowboys at a Gaultier soiree,
Then slept with perfect strangers in a film-noir verite.
And they felt they were fated, ghosts of honour at the feast -
the place names on the table read: the beauty and the beast.
They were actors in a film that could not ever be released...
it was sweet, but it was bitter, for the beauty and the beast.
Bleary-eyed, with secret smiles, they slept right through the day,
then found two could-be lovers in a jungle hideaway.
Lost in conversation, bodies touching as they spoke,
whilst music played and bodies swayed in coloured lights and smoke.
She said: 'Il est heureux'. He said: 'mais il est triste',
The moment passed, it could not last for the beauty and the beast.
Words (Paris) and music (London) by Thom Topham. September 1988 © Copyright Control.
all rights reserved