Friday, February 19, 2010


Love Email, 5,
Originally composed, 8 January 2008

Dear Etta,

Forgive me. I write, while I wear my heart on my sleeve. The Holidays have come and gone, and the last few days have been ice and wind.

I have no idea what the future holds.

I think of you often. Now we have been apart for three long months. I am anticipating your return home and into my arms again, but have some trepidation because I surely can not read your mind nor really know that you will keep your word.

Still I keep your memory vital. Your voice resides in my ears. The picture of your loveliness is in my mind today, fresh. That image remains the same today as it was yesterday, when I had thought about you throughout the hours, and the same as it was the day before, and so many of the other days, the other days which had gone before yesterday.

I write this poem for you.


The seabirds cry by the sea,
Their songs are sad,
Their refrains freight my melancholy.

And in the distance a fog horn,
It, too, sounds a plaintive note;
It repeatedly revives my sorrow.

There is a damp, hard, winter wind.
It beats on me, causes terrible chill.

The nights remain very long;
I fear that I may have lost forever 
The memory of how the summer sun warms. 

And now my mind succumbs to the foreboding;
Oh I dread that I might never kiss you again!

I hope to have you here with me, again, shortly, your warmth in my arms, your smile illuminating the depths of my bosom, and the rooms of our house once more.

I am very truly yours, S.

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