a letter from Home

Tears are pointless, inept, unproductive.

We still have evermore

and after that, eternity.

But to rest your mind I’m dropping you a line

to describe my present scenery.

Painted canvas splashed all colours

washing the rainbow

and in-between

and then yet more pigmented brilliance

eyes still there have yet to see.

Symphonic echo resounds emotive,

warbling notes

so pure and clear

with harmonics dividing the chromatic scale

ears are deaf to over there.

Fragrant multi-eternal bouquets.

Even Shakespeare

has difficulty

finding words to describe smell’s purity

denied the soul until it’s here.

Sense of belonging, love abounding.

Knowledge of

great security.

Peaceful, calm, revising lessons

while waiting for you to follow me.