I hardly dare to write. You open a door,

A pile of crushing cares stacked up behind it

Tumble on you, and smothers: the great store

Of pain you hoped to avoid – now you must mind it

The theme is separation: this dull moon

The breadth of southern London lies between

But so much more, a country, maybe soon:

A sea, a continent may intervene.

Just love and faith, dusty ideals to turn to

Well, they will serve to bridge the time, the space

Believe all that old stuff? Dear, we will learn to

Till we confirm our passion face to face

Such pain! The thought that I might part from you

Such certainty! Knowing love will come through. 

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