We shared a pen as though a common voice,
For many miles did bar the touch of hand;
On sight of letter so did hearts rejoice
As sure as gaining gifts from foreign lands.
I checked the post on nearly every morn
There sweetest joy to find on paper white,
And read aloud, loves’s tones to words adorn,
Your sprightly visage dancing in my sight.
As ways led on to ways and ardor waned,
The sun arose each day and birds did sing,
Thin bonds of ink that distance fairly strained
Seemed faded as wan visions they would bring.
It isn’t that I had no more to say…
But simply that my life got in the way.
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.