To speak of wordless joy, and yet they say
That you were here. What sweet content it brings
To note the dented cushion where you lay
Your head. The gift you brought lies open by
My side, and can I trace a fragrance in
The air, a perfume, subtle as a sigh,
That springs to life from happiness within?
The light has grown more bright since you were here;
This room has gained a depth of quality
It lacked before. You have not left, my dear,
The miles between us are a fantasy
When everything I touch, and sense, and see
Affirms your living presence here with me.
