Epistle Poem by Sambanath Denis

Dear friend, when we met near the olive fields
So beautiful like sable pearls hanging from their
branch, I had been returning to the great
House. These olives are a treasure to taste,
I stole one into my mouth after paying
Homage in my heart to the Lord. Remnants.
From where you came is a mystery. I
Beheld you for the first time, I knew I
Would love you. The stars came with blinking stares.
As our conversation past into night,
I found that this had been the best day since
Yesterday. Where before I did not know
How much wonderful fun you could truly
Be. Now I feel duty bound by affection.
Your eyes are like the olives. Today we
Shall meet again, after I pay homage
To the Lord of my heart. After all, He
Made the bough from where your eyes
Remind me: olives make wine. I do not
Drink, so please do not presume I will do.
The wind is a light caress tonight, as
I close my eyes I feel I share with you.
I breath in the air, as I think privately.
My environment seems exquisite,
As I look forward to taking a walk
By the treasures. Until we meet again,
Should the Maker of your eyes allow it.

Your affectionate friend, Serah Rosary.