By candle’s light that broad, fresh smile
put rose in cheeks and light in eyes.
The postman’s missive so worthwhile,
the day could hold no greater prize.

She’s half way through the second line,
at once the sound of laughter rings,
for ink the colour of dark wine
such satisfaction brings.

Oh when a sister’s far away
those conjoined hearts still beat,
while storge itself holds sway,
each written word’s a treat.