a longing

would we rather wait and to receive some mail by post

just for something to open over coffee and our breakfast toast

the writing of a letter is sadly thought now a dying art

the natural way of communication when folk were far apart

sadley it is by e-mail that we now write to one and other

but who knows who may be reading it in this world of the big brother

soon the post box will see no letters and with junk mail only feed

if you think this could not happen you must now then take heed

remember all those letters from lovers, family and from friends

that in older days of thought and style did handwrite all letter send

post should be more than a seasons card with nothing in between

so to Copperdog post you then a letter as her mailbox now feels quite lean

 

Poem by Ironmonger

 

Done