I cannot offer a gift for you to hold,
no millefiori paperweight of brightly coloured glasses,
or fancy timepiece cast from golds of yellow and white,
for it could never rest, smooth and heavy, within your open hands,
or sit proudly marking time upon your sun-tanned wrist,
fated instead to be cast aside in guilty haste;
a bittersweet secret buried beneath time’s fallen sands.
Born of heartfelt words,
that need not be brandished or worn outwardly,
neither be hidden away in a dark and airless closet,
my gift to you lies deep within my own heart,
remaining without exception,
promising love, support and friendship always.