Saturday night at
That's when he wrote his letter,
The place was quiet then,
His concentration, better.
He held his pen
and closed his eyes,
Sat still in reverie,
In his mind he traveled back,
He recalled those yesterdays,
He, in his tux with boutonniere,
She, in her gown of gold lame,'
She flowed like
silk, upon his arm,
She moved and matched his stride,
People looked at them in awe,
His shoulders back with pride.
The paper smooth
Was begging for his pen,
He picked it up. "Darling," he wrote,
Then laid it down again.
His chin cradled
in his hand,
His brow furrowed deep in thought,
He pictured her, as she was then,
In their days of Camelot.
His Queen of
Beauty, Queen of Love,
His very Queen of Hearts,
The world was their oyster then,
Their choice - any part.
He, a successful
A presence, tall and trim,
A finger snap - a nod - a wink,
How they bowed and scraped to him.
he wrote once more,
"It's been so long since I have heard,
I'm wondering if you are all right,
I so look forward to your word."
He twirled his
pen between his fingers,
His thoughts flowed faster than his ink,
Suppose, he thought, she is not well.
Whatever should he think?
No ... she's fine
... she always was,
She always took good care,
Radiant, with sparkling eyes,
And shining, lustrous hair.
"I heard our
song the other night,
I thought of you, my dear,
Remember how it used to go?
I almost shed a tear."
Erase that - he
must not let her know,
That sometimes he feels sad,
"The music made me think, my dear,
Of the good times that we had."
Darling, do you recall?
Over and over, they played our song,
We danced. We had a ball."
His body swayed
He closed his eyes again,
He hummed the old, familiar tune,
He saw the two of them.
weather's turning colder, dear,
They're predicting early snow,
Remember the winter we were trapped,
When it went to ten below?"
the roads; we were snowed in,
We kept piling logs upon the fire,
With each new spark, your beauty grew,
Just as the flames rose higher."
He tapped the
paper with his pen,
Completely lost in thought,
He shut his eyes to better see,
Those things he thought about.
There came a
slight rap at his door,
Which not at all disturbed him,
A woman clad in white came in,
Which, too, did not perturb him."
"My shift is
through, I'm leaving now,
Sir, is your letter done?
Here, I'll drop it off for you,
I'm glad to help out some."
The page, he
Placed it in the envelope,
Then pressed it quickly to his lips,
And felt a surge of hope.
responded with a hug,
As she took his precious letter,
His white head nodded thoughtfully,
Somehow, he did feel better.
received this, she would write,
Soon - in all likelihood,
He smiled; he was satisfied,
He'd hear soon - he would.
The nurse stood
in the corridor,
His letter in her hands,
She tore it in a thousand pieces,
He would not understand.
Bess had been
gone for many years,
No way could he forget her,
Though old now, he was young again,
Because he wrote the letter.
Ginny’s Heart Index
The midi is performed by ©Yuko
Ohigashi. To read about this interesting young
composer just visit her site. Her midis may ONLY
be used with permission from the composer. Visit
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The midi is entitled Missing You.
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