Long ago when people had time
They would sit down and compose a line

A pen in hand, nib dipped in ink
With friends far away they'd form a link

Some wrote letters of a superior kind
That stuck around and played on the mind

They type you kept hidden in a box
Away form prying eyes you'd keep them locked

They were not mere words, they were confessions of love
As if the angels themselves were speaking from above

A heart entirely poured into every phrase
About a moment,  a touch, a feeling, a gaze

So this, for you, is my love letter
Let's hope the next is slightly better