Close, very very close they were.
Spoke everyone about him and her.
Eagerly awaited his letters, steady was the flow.
His loving letters, on her face, brought a glow
Then, busy got they; now the flow was slow.
Then it slowly reached an all time low.
For her throbbing heart, this came as a blow.
She couldn't figure out a reason; she didn't know.
Withering was the tree, lovingly she did sow.
Sad n forlorn she sits; what happened; she doesn't know.
Even today she hopes, resume will the flow.

Armin Dutia Motashaw