Tattered paper gone yellow
Not pleasant to smell,
Not easy to handle,
But not to be thrown away.
The three words on it
By some hurried hand scribbled
After careful scrutiny of emotions,
Ending a long agonising wait.
The words written, but never uttered,
On fragile paper, but in strong ink
More precious than any treasure
To be preserved carefully, delicately.
Through these she comes alive
In all her beauty and youth
Bringing back sweetness of days
And moments of happiness