From grim, grey springless England,
by cheery Ryanair
to ancient Carcassonne.

Here spring has sprung,
the sky’s sharp-blue
and the sun hints warmth.

Smart tree-lined roads cut straight
past regiments of vines awaiting growth
and villages baked to relaxation.

Intriguing Marseillan clusters tight
around an ancient church.
Cool, dark, prayerful and with bells.

Cats dawdle in the twisty maze of streets.
No car can speed -
The larger dare not enter.

Boulangers, boucheries and Spar
meet basic needs
Coquillage and Champion still more.

Tabac, Presse, hairdressers and florists,
The Parti Communiste Francais,
And estate agents for your dreams.

Womblike Boulevard comforts with dinner
Food served with pride
To be enjoyed with rosé.

The mass click-clack of sheet on mast,
Boats in harbour idleness watch
As active sails scud across the bay.

While diners glass in hand
Look on from restaurant and cafe
Eating the freshness of the sea.

Phoenicians, Romans, Gauls have left their mark
With amphitheatres, aqueducts and roads
Two thousand years of history in roasted stone.

Explore, enjoy, experience Languedoc,
Go home relaxed, remember and return.
You’re always welcome.

                                                Richard Cooke