Posted by Glencora Falconer on December 18, 1998 at 00:50:10:
In Reply to: Re: *sigh* posted by Jeffrey on December 17, 1998 at 09:40:15:
Mi Corazon,
Upon winged steed, swift and true I have returned, and wait upon your missive sweet with sugared words to taste upon the minds tongue.
'Cora
: Jeffrey : : Milord and Milady, : : Is your rapt audience not to know the climax of this heady discourse? : : Rebecca of the Heathered Moors : : : Mi Corazon, : : : My miserable addled brain knows not how to respond to your honied words. Their nector rides heavy on my comprehension. My philososphy cannot encompass your sweetly textured meanings, but I shall endeavor to peruse, and too treasure, their fine form pressed upon the page and seared forever in my memory. : : : Your bonny son, shone so sweetly in the fine, fine sunshine of a summer day, but I, I was but a mirror, or a pane of glass to him. Only to be glanced through, or be, a mere reflection of himself. But you, you, you have seen to my deepest, warmest center, to my very soul. : : : You speak of warm evenings, ahhhh, a few of those I've known. The sun setting brilliantly upon a bridge of gold. A eagle glides on the warm winds wafting up from the ocean. Humming birds dance in courtship, one upon the other. A menage a toi of avian passion. : : : I'll sit tonight, under the twinkling stars, and dream of your "stake... planted, mature and strong" a positive maypole in the spring. All decked with ribbons and flowers, a promise of.... But I 'll not continue. For much separates us, and much always shall. : : : Remember Mi Corazon, you shall always have my "esteem" for the saddest thing that can be said, : : : The tears shall dampen my pillow this evening, they will the bittersweet tears of longing that cannot be fulfilled. : : : I'll shall don the slippers of a winged-nature and be with you on the morrow. For responsibilities call, one's that I can not deny. : : : Adieu, Adieu, Mi Corazon, till it the morrow. : : : 'Cora : : : : : 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. : : : : A1 Biento
: Remember Rebecca ³ An Englishman takes time ³ .
: : I beg of you, please continue. We breathily await.
: : : "What could have been."
: : :
: : : :
: : : : Mon Coeur
: : : :
: : : : 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..................