With love and affection;

Dearest Evie.

The dream in which you leave me,

haunts deeper than able to mention.

If words count for tears I’d cry without you by my side,

count me a poet.

Your wildest wishes, so be it.

A shimmering moon pulling heartstrings as the tide.

For sickness and suffering are invalid,

as long as you’re by my ribs

I’ll build you in pyramids,

from nothing but stone and twigs.

My soaring dove.

Oh, to be your soft hands glove.

To hold you, Evie,

and feel your earnest love.