The Letter by Paidamoyo Muzulu

I can’t remember when I last received a letter
The envelope was sky-blue and had a foreign stamp

The address was scrawled in tight and flowing long hand
My mind went racing.

Slowly and composed after a thorough scrutiny of the date stamp
I gathered the willpower to prise it open.
Yes, inside was the sweet scented long feather-weight ivory writing pad.
The handwriting was controlled, tight and flowing.

Each sentence was carefully constructed,
The diction was near perfect as the syntax.
It was written in an enthralling and captivating descriptive language,
But still simple enough to convey her emotions.

I envisioned the writer serene on her desk,
Her slender and lovely hands scrawling away.
The letter carried the tenderness of her feelings.
It was simple yet powerful.

Reading the emotional signing off,
My mind wandered to new forms of communication.
No email, text or chat message had moved me like this before.
The letter had a mystic gripping aura.

I gazed at the ceiling and shook my head to clear it.
I searched my drawers for the long forgotten pad and pen.
Emotionally, I scribbled in a daze blotting the plain pad.
I crumbled the blotted pad and started again, more composed.

Wrote slowly, concisely and legibly,
I let my hand translate my emotions into words and images.
I infused tenderness and seriousness of thought on paper.
I signed off at long last with satisfaction at my handiwork.

Carefully I addressed the envelope,
Tenderly took it with a merry heart to the post box.
I sighed as I dropped it,
Praying silently it would be received with eagerness.
Hoped it would be delivered in good time still carrying my frozen emotions for her thawing.