I write you a poem
I know it's not much
it isn't a flower
you can reach out and touch

Not the grandest of gestures
it's a singular rhyme
there's no red wicker basket
of Rosemary and Thyme

My words are not objects
not plated in Gold
but my ballad is heartfelt
where metal is cold

So, don't you agree
that a poem is better?
For my heart is not in materialism
but a sincere love letter.