I could think of nothing better
To set out the good times
And mail you the letter
I wrote of the fountains
And the rampant sea breezes
I wrote of the ramble
And your ever loving squeezes
I looked through the doorway
Onto a mirror of light
I looked to the floor-way
And remembered what might
I heard the birds chatter
As if by the shielings
Love is that fact of matter
Beside the potato peelings
Today I hope
You care for the letter
My heart hoped yesterday
Je ne regrettez
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