I meant to send you a rose today; but the distance was too great. But not for words. And I began to wonder: how many letters before I match the softness of a petal's touch? How many thoughts, mulled together, can conjure up the image of lilies, waving in the spring? I know your heart is fertile, and its soil ready for the seed... Would not a single, quiet glance, suffice to set the rendezvous? Then here it is: be mine. I think the silence says the rest.