It took a long time and a great deal of thought,

I couldn’t believe I had lost what I sought.

I should have forgotten, moved on and known better,

But I sat down and wrote her the oldest love letter.


It spanned many years – no, a lie I have told:

Perhaps it…. I’m vague or perhaps I am old.

But always remembered how sharp that I fell,

For her green eyes, her kisses, the thrill of her spell.


And so I am writing the oldest love letter,

Whilst hoping the years will be treating her better,

As sharp and in focus as memories of you,

I love you as then and you know that I do.


The oldest love letter is proud in defeat.

It mellows, (no anger)  …. just bitter and sweet.

A brooding nostalgia with wisdom to taste,

To soften the promise of young love laid waste.


Forgotten the hard words that brought us to anger,

The years pass much quicker, I dwell and I linger,

But you know why I’m writing this oldest love letter,

For youth was the lover who couldn’t forget her.


I am pinned to my cross by a memory old,

Haunted through life by a love that grew cold,

Recapturing moments when love reigned supreme.

But this oldest love letter rekindles my dream.

Michael Walsh Poetry

Immortal Beloved: Sublime Poetry for Romantic Souls by Michael Walsh


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