Lighting a French candle during winter in New York City

by Claire Obry


๐—Ÿ๐—ถ๐—ด๐—ต๐˜๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด ๐—ฎ ๐—™๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ฐ๐—ต ๐—ฐ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ฑ๐—น๐—ฒ ๐—ฑ๐˜‚๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด ๐˜„๐—ถ๐—ป๐˜๐—ฒ๐—ฟ ๐—ถ๐—ป ๐—ก๐—ฒ๐˜„ ๐—ฌ๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—ธ ๐—–๐—ถ๐˜๐˜†โ€ฆ ๐Ÿ•ฏ๏ธ๐ŸŒ‡

As the rain falls gently in New York City,
The warmth of the fire and the soft glow of the candle
Bring us peace on this winter night.

We breathe in the fragrance of the French candle ๐˜—๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ๐˜ฅ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ป, the favorite of kings and queens of France.

Its floral and powdery notes filling our senses.
It transports us to Versailles, the streets of Paris,
Where we can almost hear the soft murmur of the Seine.

Drifting through memories of past travels.
We are transported to the cozy bistros and charming cafรฉs,
Where we have sipped on warm coffee and savored rich ๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ช๐˜ด๐˜ด๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ช๐˜ฆ๐˜ด.

But as we sit here in Mylineโ€™s Central Parkโ€™s apartment,
The French candle burning bright,
We remind ourselves that home is where the heart is,
And we are grateful for this moment of peace and quiet before our kids invade our space.

So we sit and watch the flame flicker,
And for just a moment, we are back in France,
With the warmth of the candle and the memoriesย ofย the glittering Eiffel Tower...

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