A very nice poem from Edgar Allan Poe...
For you are a name, a spirit, a soul
I have no image of you, only one which I've grown
a name you are, true comfort and bliss
and when you don't write, for you I do miss
Beauty I'm told is something quite rare
for which I seek, in the depths of despair
yet for all I hold true and know that is fair
you are my beauty, my love and my care
Alas I will rise when morning comes stead
And know I won't see you climbing out of our bed
I wish I could hold you and kiss you so true
for all that I love is that which is you
I beg you take comfort in this crescendo of words
if I could I'd flock to you like migrating birds
for as the wind blows and travels afar
I blow you a kiss, for your cheek to mar.
Thank you Chris.