Quiberon... a poem

I wrote a poem in French this evening!!! Not in some cozy atmosphere, in which I could pay heed to rhyme and metre. It was written in the space of exactly four minutes... during a test. I was supposed to fill out a picture postcard with a few lines, the other side of which (I had to assume) was an some image of this place.

Here goes the poem...

Voici la presqu'île de Quiberon
Fondé par Bobet, le champion

Le célèbre centre de thalassothérapie
Dont on a toujours ravie

Les longues plages, et les promenades
Le vieil port, et les remparts

Vous aurez vraiment de la chance
Pour passer là-bas, vos vacances!

It translates to There is the peninsula of Quiberon, founded by Bobet, the champion... The famous centre for thalassotherapy, that one would always dream of... The long beaches and the walks, the old port and the ramparts... You will be really lucky to spend your vacations over there.

(Bobet - Louison Bobet, French cyclist, the first person to win the Tour de France for three consecutive years; thalassotherapy - sea-water therapy)

One of the things I hate about wannabe poets is their adherence to homonyms. Any poem that the budding poet writes will end in words that sound alike... and on numerous occassions, one can sense the extra effort that has gone into it. I used to comment that such people had a simple algorithm to produce a poem.

1. First think of a subject, or a theme - mostly love.

2. Decide the number of lines, and then divide it into groups of 3 or 4. (12 lines, so 3 groups of 4 lines each)

3. Find 3 groups of 4 rhyming words... moon, soon, noon, boon.

4. Complete the poem with lines ending with these words. For example,

You are like the moon

Bright as the noon!

Come let's go soon,

And read Mills & Boon!

It is an irony that my first attempt at poetry has turned out that way too; but who cares? I am poet, and I've got the poetic license! Monsieur Vijay KRISHNA, the newest French poet on the block, takes a bow...