Even if I could wrap it up,
Paper, ribbon,
You’d not be surprised to find
That same gift I give you every day
Beating away like a ticking bomb,
Sweet as stained-red marzipan.


Thank You Letter

My Dearest …….
It’s not an excuse
But I was never good at writing thank you letters.
They were always late,
Written in resentful hurry and full of mistakes.

This thank you is also late.

I am sorry.

However, my biggest mistake
Was waiting until you asked if I liked them
Before I could tell you how,
I don’t just like your gifts,
I love them.

What better gifts could there be
For when we are apart
Than to be able to imagine
You in the words I read,
Or close my eyes
And imagine
That it is the music of you that I hear
Beating in my heart,
Whispering in my ear.

I should have been more effusive in my gratitude.

I should have shown greater joy in receiving far more than I deserve.

I should have shown you how much more I love you for thinking of me, when I thought I’d been forgotten.

It’s odd isn’t it?
That I never tell you these kind of things
Face to face.
Ear to Ear.
That instead, I have to write it down,
Hide behind
Paper and pen
To tell you how I really feel
Because in real life I have become too scared?

Too scared to let you get too close again
In case you run away with my heart
But this time don’t bring it back.

Anyway…before I sign off,
Let me repeat how thankful I am

For your presence.

Yours always