Page 6 - The First Letter To My Lady.

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N O V E M B E R 2 0 1 9

Words minced, times amiss,

Long forlorn, adorned yet torn.

Glass yields diamond, sand yields glass,

Let this diamond trickle by, How could I? Alas!

Yet times stands eternal, all-healing,

Always was & always will be,

A twist of fate. Bully for you, chilly for me.

Twists & turns. Ups & downs, a roulette wheel,

Or maybe just a good old-fashioned see-saw, see?

Or maybe some weird mix of all three!

Nonetheless, don't you see!? What we have is novel-worthy,

And I for one, sure con feel, the tantalizing build-up

Of timeless literary exploits that'd make seasoned readers kneel.

ln the artsy depths of our mutual story,

Under pouring showers of thrill & sheer glee!

"Untitled" - R.

All rhyming aside, I think the key to sustenance we can strive

towards is being each of our trusted compadre’s, don’t you

agree?