Poetry from Within (a collection)

The Letter

Cherishing every moment with you,

Although we're separated by oceans and borders,

We're brought together by a piece of paper

Written in ink-we talk about our day,

Mine's rather mundane,

Giggling and gossiping with the other girls at town square,

I await by the letterbox at 3pm to receive your letter

Ripping it apart I smile with glee,

Scanning through it, reading it thoroughly

I can hear each syllable in your baritone voice,

The drawls you have on each word,

The slight lisp when you pronounce hard consonants

Yet, I'm comforted when I read your letters

Learning about new military techniques, your injuries

You don't miss out even the slightest detail.

In the most recent letter,

Enclosed your most recent picture

That short black hair, dark eyes and

That piercing smile never fails to make me blush

That tiny scar on your chin that you've acquired,

From climbing a tree and grabbing a bird's nest

I chuckled as I touched my chin,

With a similar scar that looks like a cut,

From sliding on the banister and flying a few metres from it.

We're such different people, yet we are similar in such different ways.

I rush to the letterbox to post my letter,

With my recent picture in it as well,

I had to show you my new hairstyle and pearl necklace.

But it was Sunday.

There's no post on Sundays.

Vaguely I heard my name,

I turned around.

There you were, as perfect as ever.

I wanted to run to you,

I wanted to hear your heartbeat.

But with prying eyes,

Wagging tongues,

All we did was smile and nod

Acknowledging each other's presence,

Ignoring the world around us.