I Confessed To You Poem by David Harris

As I read the old love letters,
you sent back to me.
The ones in which I confessed to you
how I wanted our love to be.
I told you in them
how I was sensitive to your touch,
and how I loved you so much.
It was obvious that you
did not feel for me the same way.
You never answered the letters,
but sent them unopened back to me.
Years have now passed
and I kept each and every one.
I dig them out occasionally
and have a good read through,
and then I sit down
and read them to you.
When I wrote them,
there was one thing I did not know.
You could not have read
the letters even if you wanted to.
You were blind and I did not know,
but that never stopped our love.
Now as we grow older together
with each passing day.
Our love grows a little stronger
in lots of different ways.
Those faded old love letters
we keep, as our reminder
love has no bounds.

4 June 2008