Old Letter in an Attic
 

Leafing through a written past,
Inscribed upon a yellowed page,
Well hidden from my ageing gaze,
For years until this day.
I had forgotten your sweet thoughts,
That once I cherished, loved and sought.
I kept them in my heart for years,
And placed them safe away.

As now I guiltily recall,
Your letter, soft and tender still,
With feather-soft rejection,
Of my youthful keen request.
My expectations dashed and crushed,
With days of tears and yearning lust,
You carefully explained your trust,
Our parting for the best.

I smile now at my careless heart,
Which beats within me, counting time,
As antique clocks mark precious days.
By marking off the years.
Yet ‘though I am but old and grey,
I know that you were right, my love,
We were too young, too green, too bold,
And went our separate ways.

You have unlocked forgotten doors,
To speak to me across the years,
Your judgement, strong and confident,
Remains quite vital now.
My search uncovered wealth untold,
Your wisdom, solid, wise and bold,
My happiness, it did unfold,
As my wife, your sister, found.