A poem about enotes, expression of love - mode and message
|A Heart of Trees
With all the enotes that I’ve sent
Trying to be a first class gent:
It suddenly occurred to me
A paper heart I’m making;
But this one is very fragile
It cannot be shredded or put in a pile.
It will need painting a rosy red
Not hung on a wall,
or under a pillow in bed,
It requires a flimsy transparent cover,
So that boring dust may not enter,
And lines stay true and meanings not suffer;
This red heart will have a lot of layers,
Without my enotes I have no prayers.