TR (22nd September 1968 / Edmonton, London, UK)

From Across The Shore

She sends sweet letters to me,
Never do they bore,
She is as busy as a bee,
My love from across the shore.

She writes of love so pure,
Like a virgin dressed in white,
Her letters I can’t ignore,
This would simply not be right!

She writes of innocent love,
But saucy she is not,
Her words as beautiful as a dove,
To me she means a lot.

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Comments (1)

a lovely poem almost from another time and place 'letters' but the honesty creating a fine poem