(found under a kite with a key and a kipper as well as something else alliterative)
Marcy,
Yes, my dear, I know that I am quite ridiculous. But, then, consider this.
You, darling gracious, are an absolute vision when wearing that pink chiffon dress with the pale yellow lace around the shoulders.
Yes, Marcy, I know that I am quite ridiculous, and say it all that you want. Shout it, in fact, from the heavens, and let all the occupants of our universe be alerted to that simple fact.
Say it all that you want, but I must warn you of something.
We get nowhere, Marcy, when all we do is observe and state the obvious.
But, with all of that in mind, I will go ahead and do it anyway.
I have seen quite a many magnificent thing, dearest Marcy. I’ve been to the top of the world, as well as its bottom. I’ve sat on a grassy hillside and watched stars fade during yellowing dawns. I’ve waited there, patiently, as the sun descended and bathed the sky in oranges, then reds, then purples until those same stars returned to say hello.
I have to say that I quite prefer the sunrises. They quite remind me of the way children dance in the street during a holiday break. I don’t know why, and I’m not sure that particular question is even worth asking. Perhaps they just have a similar effect on me, Marcy. That’s what it is. I’m sure.
Which brings us to the point, I guess, as well as an end to my incessant babbling, my string of word after word after meaningless word, growing longer and longer with each and every phrase and sentence.
Yes, I know that I am quite ridiculous.
But I have packed a picnic basket, and I would like to invite you to watch the sun as it travels above us today. I’ve picked out quite the spot on that grassy slope.
Who knows how the day will unfold, but I anticipate that it will turn out to be exquisitely enjoyable.
Perhaps we will give it an ovation as it dips out of view, before it’s crowded out of the sky by all those other stars.
I await your reply with bated breath, which is why you’ll have been woken by my knocking on your door, why I shoved this paper into your hands without word or warning, why I’m still standing here, cheeks growing purple, on your porch.
Yes, I know that I am quite ridiculous.
But some things just cannot be helped.
Look behind me, just right now.
Have you seen such a sunrise?
Smilingly,
Patricia
Forgotten Correspondence 