Posted by DaDDY on December 17, 1998 at 07:39:49:
In Reply to: Re: A letter from DADDY posted by Glencora Falconer on December 17, 1998 at 05:25:50:
: Byronıs DaDDy,
: Your words are like the finest of vintages to these, not so old eyes, they entrance the mind, if not the tongue.
: I lived for the boy, but have found the man.
: I respect that ³thorn ridden stake,² but please forgive me if I wish it ivy covered with thick vines, easier for the climbing.
: The coming festivities hold no enchantment for me, for I will be far from the medium of our communication, but will endeavor to hurry back, the Mercuryıs winged sandals upon my feet.
: Duty, of the most inopportune kind calls, and I must depart.
: Adieu,
: Robinıs Father,
: Cora Falconer
: : Glencora
: : I fear without doubt the yeilding silver sycthe as I do all instruments so sharp held firm by so literate a persons gentle hand.
: : Surely my girded loins are done for, as is my hand that trembles with the passing of the time ( or thats my excuse and I am sticking to it).
: : That ebb, that flow that tints your every word has entranced my soul, my thougts, but not my principles, held high and safe upon a tall and lean thorn ridden stake.
: : From which deep thoughts can such words emerge to encase, and to en trance, to hold me, to captivate me within your very grasp or nearly so.
: : Farewell fair one and be blessed this coming time of festive frivolities.
: : DaDDY
Mon Coeur
I read you well, those words so deep, those eyes I yearn to learn about, but I challenge not your soul with these few words, but praise it all in my mind behold.
With great risk of scolding from my young son I risk the wrath of the thespian mind, the words that can hurt more than the scythe, the scolding of son to Father is as brine upon my eyes, but risk I do for he is kind, I should know, he is of mine.
Indeed Cora you have found the man, perhaps undone him I am not sure, but found one of thoughts, of summertime, of warm evenings in the barmy sun, of private silence bound with golden twine, from golden eyes that can see mine.
Hurry Cora and bare your soul, I thirst for all, I need to know, I am like a caravan in tow, awaiting your every word to quench my need.
The stake is planted, mature and strong, and all in bud, but sadly marred where others have tried to scale, to reach out, to try to hold my hand, sadly I have not been so that bold.
Attend your tasks and be aware, that here there are thoughts quite rare, anxious to hear that you are fine, don those sandals with anxious haste,
to tell me more of your journey so far, of other things from afar..................
Aı Biento