The sun warms thy sweet face, sparkling within emerald eyes; of the clouds and how they may have come to be, the shapes that you see. Why do these things around me whisper as they do? Am I the only who sees? No dear love, thou art a picture of solace lost in things before thou…to be as you wish upon thine heartfelt certainty that yours is the course for you. Yet, thy heart knows a battle too often and oh, so true – that upon the stars we gaze offers the wonder of another; I miss you too.

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