I meant to send you a rose today;
but the distance was too great.
But not for words.
And I began to wonder:
how many letters before I match
the softness of a petal's touch?
How many thoughts, mulled together,
can conjure up the image
of lilies, waving in the spring?
I know your heart is fertile,
and its soil ready for the seed...
Would not a single, quiet glance,
suffice to set the rendezvous?
Then here it is:
be mine.
I think the silence says the rest.
