Billet-Doux Poem by Imogene Wagner

Oh, trembling hands and heart be still
And let me read the words that will
Enfold the world in secret glow,
Where only heart and I will know
That sunless days are hued with gold
That mortal fears and deaths are cold
No longer holding power to kill
The joys and bow the moody will
To whimsical despair and pain;
Oh, let the gods of fate send rain
Or storms to beat in futile spite,
I shall not know or see the slight
Encased around by words that steal
Love's fingers out to stave the real.

(July 15,1948)