For . . .

A card or not a card - and one by one, first chosen, pondered, they are put away. Another's words, though charming, cannot say my truth of loving. Take then, love, I pray, my perhaps poorer words and let them speak within the stillness of your house and heart, of gathered talks, of walks by sea or creek; let moments sing in part and counterpart and go with gladness in another day, through wind and waiting, and let rain and sun greet you in blessing til your day is done.

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