You can call and say I love you8
You can play me pretty notes7
Leave flowers on my window sill 8
Or to your friends can boast. 6
You can take me out to dinner
But the things that mean the post
Is not the box of chocolates
But what comes with the post.
A missive in your scribbley hand
My name scrawled on the front
A rumpled, folded piece of you
A letter to my heart.
You say I'm often on your mind
So send these thoughts my way
What is expressed when you take the time
Is more than words to me.
Twenty, thirty years from now
All else may be gone
Memories fade and roses droop
Letters linger on.
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I really like this, Brenna.
ReplyDeleteLove Mom