There is a certain romance lost

when a communication comes out of the blue,

the modern love of the instant message received and crossed

is nothing to having a significant day made superior by a letter from you.

The hand writing, sincere, legible and carefully written,

has been pondered over, adjusted and cleaned by scraps

of paper unseen left by her own bin, tossed in by anguished hand and nail bitten

fingers as she gropes for the right, beautiful word, outlined by doodled maps.

The letter, sprayed with fine perfume and with a message of bliss

buried in the protection of the envelope

talks of meeting on a specific date and at a secret location,

the promises of the day ahead wrapped up in a single kiss,

putting it somewhere safe, time goes by and lost in hope,

realisation that the letter is misplaced, along with relationship salvation.

Ian D. Hall 2015