La Baie

France, in May,
We wandered to the bay.
In a bar and café,
I sipped a glass of rosé.

Sunlight spilled through the hatchway,
Casting gold upon the tray,
Where my cassoulet lay, steaming, bright,
A taste of warmth, a pure delight.

I longed to stay,
But my brother said nay—
His plans set firm, not swayed today.
But hey, that’s okay.

Someday we’ll return and stay,
In France, La Baie.