My Dear UNKNOWN (13)

Feasts without celebration.


The feast days are in way to finish;
But for me that were usual ones.
My feast have been:to see again,
Yours humanitarian writings.

I did not look to funny scenes,
Hearing that people cries and dies.
Also my own poor soul,
Was sad regarding war reports.

The world mirror offered me:
Yours new and old pieces,
Which were endless, sweet pages,
As yours pretty pictures.

My great dream in future is:
That we will meet for ever,
For widen and adorn,
Our everlasting, noble, works.

I'm sorry not to be able,
To stay in your proximity,
To caress you as a kind child,
For feel the feast days.

Suntwin