Pen, Man, Ship

I write you my dear with the hands of my heart,

And the honesty of my soul;

A letter that when read may be torn apart,

But the thoughtfulness nonetheless whole

With meek words and kisses and some roses too, 

From which thorns my hands bled for the ink;

That this letter I write when your skies are un-blue

Will turn your cheeks subsequently pink.

Reviews

[mattavelli]

This is a fun read. Great rhyme and flow!

[Oydrin]

Thank you for appreciating Mr. Matt. Please feel free to suggest improvements also. Thanks again. :)

[mattavelli]

Sure, is there a problem with it?

[Oydrin]

Well sir, my other poems are open for constructive feedback. Only if you have the time and willingness of course. I am open to sensible exchanges also. Thanks.