There’s a message in here, somewhere.

Hope To Catch Up With You. Soon.

Listen, patient reader to the tragic tale that shall unfold…
Into the Gard du Nord the Euro Disney Express rolled…

The Gard du Nord’s a favoured haunt of the light-fingered brigand,
Who was first to spot the three rubes fresh in from Disneyland?
What a delightful introduction to Paree we were swiftly shown,
One near new Samsung departing from my gal’s bag to parts unknown.

Until the bankcard was put on hold, and Police wearily then tearily told
Our day of hopping on the hop-on hop-off tourist buses also went on hold.

True, the view atop the open charabanc was breathtakingly grand
But my mood and the temperature proved f- far colder than that planned,
Swathed in a woolen greatcoat and still chilled to the very bone,
Was it any wonder the Eiffel Tower left me with a face of stone?

Its precisely because my good-natured gal retains her heart of gold
That caused the boiling blood entering THIS heart to emerge icy cold.

As I gaze up at Napoleon, frozen statuesquely, his pose I now understand,
Why, he presses to his heart his phone; (lest it’s whipped from his hand,)
So, I’ve a message for the Gaulish pickpocket who nicked my gal’s phone-
When you receive your call to Hell, may you get a hot spot of your very own.

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