Before me spreads the topic coast of France:
a stop unplanned, selected as the wind
entangled Monaco. The tour’s mischance
betakes us here, a panorama spinned
because the anchors let us turn a bit,
the view resorts on shore and stepping cliffs,
the overcast now threatening to spit,
the bay unoccupied except by skiffs
that morning toted passengers to shore
and afternoon has settled for a rest.
Behind the hills lurk mountains, cities, more,
while I on chaise am feeling doubly blest:
beloved buddy absent for a time,
and me relaxed to play with metered rhyme.