Perhaps my last note got lost in cyberspace or went straight to your junk mail? I understand. I thought maybe if I wrote you again, this time with a little more urgency in my written tone you might actually respond this time. I'm not asking for much, a warm breeze on my face, a tiny whiff of fresh budding bulbs carried along by that lovely warm breeze and the melodic sounds of children laughing, people everywhere shedding winter layers as the days temperature rises. Come on now, I've been fair. I kept my end of the deal. Where were you? Where were you? I showed up and you never came, I waited and waited and I'm still waiting but no you. What about the forsythias? What about the pansies? We're all waiting and we love you so much that I guess we'd wait forever. Maybe that's the problem, you know how much we need you, you've got us wrapped around your finger don't you? Well, what if we headed north huh? What then, noone to bloom for then? And what's the point if there is noone to bloom for?
Think about it. You need us too you know. Next year Tyler and I might have to cheat on you and head south, that's right, we'll get our warmth elsewhere if it has to come to that.
I'm hopeful that you're just paying homage to Elizabeth Taylor by being fashionably late. I could forgive that.
I'll cheers your arrival no matter how long it takes.
Stubbornly, I'm forever yours,