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