“Now let’s to church my dear to prove - 

The joys of virtuous, happy love.” 

 - The first Valentine letter, sent around 1798. 

I am writing you a poem -

As it’s the only thing I can do,

Without feeling I am being misunderstood.

For as beautiful as spoken words can be,

Sometimes they don’t land smoothly or

Sweetly in your ears;

Where as a poem will always land 

Safely in your hands, in one piece and

In one place.

And this place is my heart, it chooses not to

Speak many words;

For it knows sometimes it is better to be silent with you.

For it is in this silence that we find our truth,

Our friendship and our love.