Monday 6 February 2017

Love Letters in the Library

I entered the musty library,
Of the once great house
With its leather upholstered chairs
And oak panelled walls,
Instantly feeling at home,
So I took a seat in a chesterfield beside the fire
And in comfort I began to read
But my chosen reading was not
One of the myriad of leather bound tomes
That filled the oak shelves from floor to ceiling
Nor a rare first edition, of which there were many,
I had my choice of all the classics
With their gold embossed titles
But my selection was a collection of letters
Neatly tied in faded red ribbons
And as I began to read them
They took my breath away
For each beautifully hand written page
Was part of a remarkable love story
About a most extraordinary couple
Whose depth of love was evident
In every eloquent syllable.

As I read on, their love affair
Was revealed to me as a most exceptional love story
For this lovingly devoted couple
Who billed and cooed in copperplate
On every scented page and shared their hearts love
In unguarded detail, had never met
For they had begun to write
In the innocence of childhood
As pen pals, for a project set by School
It was a chore that had to be done
But it didn’t remain burdensome
Yet even though they had never met
Their love was evident, in fact it was palpable
In their intimate personnel correspondence,
No that’s not what it was
Correspondence did not in any form
Convey the true meaning of their substance.
The tangibility was in their Love letters
That’s the only way to say it
The flowery words of an affaire d’amour
Echoed in the calligraphy on every page
Each revealing billet doux
More affectionate, romantic and intimate
Than its passionate predecessor
They billed and cooed on every page
Each lovingly constructed sentence
Heavily laced with innuendo
And dripped with sensual longing,
Subtle yet explicit at the same time
Flavoured with delicious nuances
Flirtatious and lustful
Romantic and affectionate
A love of such perfect purity,
Not for its pureness of thought
But for the absence of any hope of physicality
For their love was star-crossed
She was an invalid, bed ridden
Stricken with polio as a child
While he was a subject of an enemy state
And because their two nations were at war
She couldn’t go to him even if her health permitted
And he was unable to go to her
For fear of capture and imprisonment
So they could never meet, would never meet
And they were content in that fact
For their love transcended the physical
So they made love via their sweet missives
A love that never faded or faltered
In an affair lasting more than forty years
Which only ended with his death

The one and only public acknowledgement
Of the lifelong love affair, was in his will
When he expressed as his dying wish
That her letters, which were so precious
To him and cherished during his life
Should be returned to his love
So that they at least should lie together
She was so broken hearted at the news
That her cherished lover had left the world
She died a week after receiving them
And they could be united at last

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