thoughts and desires entrusted to paper
consumed, sniffed, caressed, secreted
the words less important
than the piece of paper
mundanities savoured with anticipation
'how was work'
'I thought of you'
now boxed and bound
quelled, extinguished
passion tempered by reality
but kept
so that in my dotage
I might relive the way it felt
to be in love
(Linking back to The Poetry Jam where the theme is 'Letters'. Visit for more contributions.)
Martine, I enjoyed the very REAL sentiments expressed in this poem & the beautiful way you worded them. I can identify. There are some letters that I am glad / will be glad I have as well in my own 'dotage.' Excellent photo accompaniment as well.
ReplyDeleteGlad that you returned to Poetry Jam, and hope we will continue to see you here!
that is our real box of love letters, all mixed up together now, it is stuffed full, we lived apart for over 18 months and wrote all the time.
Deletethanks for visiting
martine
Breaks my heart to read that words are no longer important in themselves.
ReplyDeleteWill they be on later rereading you think?
When distance has paled the later dislike and left the sediment of earlier like?
You are a DP fan then, are you?
Funny how people put their own interpretation on words:-) I meant to mean that the mere fact of the letter was what mattered not the contents. He promised himself he would write to me every day when i was living alone, sometimes to say nothing very much, it was the contact that mattered.
Deletethanks for visiting
martine
smiles...have a few love letters tucked away that i like to go back to...so sad when reality tempers that...its tough and def takes intention....sniffed...yeah a few...smiles.
ReplyDeleteI just remember reading a postcard to an elderly lady when I worked in a nursing home and I have relished the idea of getting my grandchildren to get these out and read them to me ... and probably be a bit shocked:-)
Deletethanks for visiting
martine
There is great joy in rereading letters; they are time capsules with a depth that modern eQuivalents can never hope to match.
ReplyDeleteThis is exactly it, about letters! I have purged most of the letters from my life, and burned the love letters in a fit of pique. And now I AM in my dotage with nothing to read, hee hee. Loved this poem!!!! Love the photo!
ReplyDeleteI remember long ago as a child my elderly relatives used to actually put a dab of perfume on their letters. I thought it such a romantic thing to do. This is a lovely read, romantic, real and all about love.
ReplyDeleteAw, sad. That is the nice thing about letters though--you can pull them out and read them later.
ReplyDeletePowerful ending! I love this poem and the photo of the box of letters. I have one just like it in my attic, including duct tape!
ReplyDeleteOh lovely, Martine. The permanence of letters is something special indeed. Glad you found your way back to Poetry Jam.
ReplyDeleteJust wonderful! The ending can be taken a few different ways - which is good for the readers to interpret their own way.
ReplyDeleteI love this ... passion tempered by reality, my favorite line.
ReplyDelete