Love Letters

Say it with flowers

And chocolates too

Say it with jewellery

Or a good meal for two

Say it from the heart

Say what you think

But never be careless

And say it with ink

I was tidying up some old papers the other day and I came across this poem which I had written many years ago. I wish I had taken my own advice, because in the same box I also found some love letters which I had penned when I was young and foolish.

Here is one such letter:

My dear darling beautiful Sonia,

I know we have only known each other for five days, twenty hours and 43 minutes, but ever since I laid eyes on you, standing there in your dirty overalls as you left the gas works, I knew you were the one for me. As the dust settled as they demolished the old buildings to make room for the new sewerage farm I saw in you an apparition of splendour as my heart missed a beat or more.

I immediately fell in love with you.

Do you believe in love at first sight, despite the dust and dirt of demolished buildings and people spluttering and coughing to clear their lungs?

Well, that was me my darling. I fell head over heels for you because I missed a step as I walked towards you.

I'll never forget you beside me at the hospital as they bandaged my leg and injected several shots of medicine in my backside. 

That was a vision neither of us will ever forget. I had planned to have your name tattooed  just where they injected me as a memento of my ever lasting love for you.

Butt now ...
   
Not that I am complaining my sweet, but it has not escaped my notice that in the last three days you have ignored 43 phone calls from me. I called at your work and all I found there was a wrecking ball tearing into my heart. I called at your home and found that it is a closed down tanning salon. So in desperation I am writing you this letter, yet I do not know where to post it so it reaches you my dear. 

Unlike Elvis, it cannot be returned to sender since it has not yet been sent.

I wish I knew why you are avoiding me. 

You always said, "the best things in life are free". So is it because I gave you some flowers I picked up from a grave in the cemetery? Is that it? Is that why you left me?

Needless to say, she did not reply because I did not send the letter since I did not know where to send it.

Here's another letter written to another girl-friend:

Dear Darling Murgatroyd,

Why oh why do you keep me waiting so? As agreed, last Friday night I waited for you at the pet cemetery, just by the grave of the Alsatian shepherd as we discussed, and you did not turn up. It was cold and damp, yet I waited for you as the rain soaked me to the skin. Because inside of me my heart was crying and yearning for you. But you did not turn up.

At about half-past-midnight some people dressed in odd looking costumes turned up at the cemetery. I think they were preparing for some ritual of sorts. I hid behind a large tombstone and in my panic I thought I heard your voice. Were you with them my beloved?

Then fear turned to terror as I heard them chanting. I cried a little as tears trickled down my legs. Then as I ran away I fell into an open grave. 

I awoke the next morning almost chocking as the grave filled with water from the continuous rain.

I really am truly sorry for running over your beloved cat with my motorcycle. In my defence, it was lying there in the middle of the road and I thought it was already dead. I did offer to have it stuffed by a taxidermist friend I met at college; despite the tread marks from the wheels all over its body. But you refused. By way of reparation, my dear, and so that you may have a pet to remember me by, I enclose in this box a baby rat which another friend of mine captured in the restaurant where he works as cook and waiter. It will also remind you of the times we spent there together sharing lentil soup and other vegetarian delicacies.

Please tell me you love me and I'll be at your feet in no time at all. 

Yours now and for eternity.

This letter was returned by Murgatroyd accompanied by a threatening letter from her solicitors telling me that as far as she and they are concerned there is no eternity. If I contacted her again they would take action against me. They also threatened to report me to the Animal Protection people for sending her a rat which, by the time she received the letter and package, was already dead.

Finally, here is another letter I found in my box of souvenirs:

Dear Mr Sorebottom,

Please excuse my bad handwriting since this letter is written left-handed. My right hand being bandaged heavily as a result of my fall from your bedroom window. 

I say your bedroom window, although in all truthfulness it is the window to your daughter's bedroom, as you well know when you chased me down the street with a spade in hand, followed by your wife, Mrs Sorebottom, in her negligent and carrying a gardening fork threateningly.

I would like to explain the reason why I was in your daughter's bedroom, having entered and left by the said window ...

This letter continues on another sheet of paper. The first page was returned to me by the Sorebottoms' solicitors also threatening all sorts of bad things if I contacted their daughter ever again. As I recall, at the time I worked for a pizza restaurant specialising in delivering "surprise pizzas" to people at any time and at any place.