I write Letters
Letters in
Letters to you
Letters in the bin
Letters written sin
Letters for your thoughts
Letters once read
Letters by the bed
Letters in
Letters best said ..
Basildon Bond
Letters after me name
Letters so fond
Letters to an OBE
Letters to you belong
Letters in
Letters be
Letters of Love from you
To me
Every letter I write is deserving of every tree , so as to be heard, its for you just as much as it is for me ....
I m not perfect , flawed is true , stitched together with a little golden thread of love , integrity, compassion and common sense..I write Letters, that's me and I send to you ..
Kindest Regards
Daisy
I've been going through old love letters of how we used to be.
The silly, inconsequential things you used to write to me
about nothing in particular, the mundane, the everyday, the norm.
But that Basildon Bond decorated with Quink used to give a form
to the feelings inside as your fountain pen cried, words rambling over the page.
To tear at my heart because we were apart imprisoned in our cage
of distance, and the persistence of melancholia's hurting
the only respite in spite of all, your banality and girlish flirting.
But now we've come to the here and now to emoticons and text speak.
To the short, terse text that can leave us vexed and the torment that they wreak.
Our language debased to contracted words, mis-spelled and appalling grammar.
Misconstrued meanings, tech speak and gleanings from Twitter, Face Book and Spammer.
Anticipating the postman, the sound of the letterbox, the excitement of opening your letter.
Now all we have is the e.mail wav., much quicker I grant you, but better?
Call me old fashioned, a Luddite if you must, or even a pen and paper fanatic.
But for all my ranting, there's something enchanting about finding old letters in the attic.
Straight out of Basildon
Depeche Mode 101
Never let me down
Behind my wheel
My Home
The Sound of my Universe
Better live than on the record
Searching for Free Love
No second chance
No strings attached
Just in love
John the revelator
Love thief
Master and Servant
Halo , Clean
Alone
Goodbye
You could corrupt me
Alone,
The policy of truth
My personal jesus
All i ever wanted
Is here in a my arms
About my deceased friend Terry.
Will have service for him Thursday
with a wake at Gun Tavern in
Basildon, Essex, England
Pint Will Raise
For Terry a pint will raise
And offer him much praise
Distinguished gentleman has been
Heaven's gates are open again
Where Terry now rests and stays.
Will be arriving in London on morning of May 18th
and Princess leaves South Hampton on May 20th.
Much wisdom of my poems may be found
And pretty soon we both will be bound
On a vibrant vacation in several British Isles
Where smiles are seen for miles and miles.
Love it there and many friends are made
Much longer wish we would have stayed
Now are back again after we did return
But back to British Isles we still so yearn.
Suppose another great poem should write
Hoping someone in luscious Isles will invite
Back to see smiling people who always care
Who we found to be friendly everywhere.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
For my great friend Terry Cooper from
Basildon, Essex, England
Hope you don't give me holy !*/+%@#&!
If this whole thing happens to be HTML;
It seems like I still have to learn a lot,
And as usual I again probably got caught.
Even though 1,000 poems have completed
And the competition up has again heated
Even though poetry writing fingers are thin
April has proven to be poetry month again.
And if you happen to get a chance or two
Sign Snowball for Peace Petition please do.
James Thomas Horn
Curiosity of Terry Cooper
Poet Extraordinaire of
Basildon, Essex, England
http://www.thepetitionsite.com/188/569/134/a-snowball-for-peace/#
Cut and paste above when you want to fall in love. (With peace)
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