A LETTER OF LOVE

 My dear love Dr. Paul Gauguin,

                                              For your patience I give thanks.

          My appreciation could not be feigned,

                          My last painting of you, I crank.

   Of my disease I have suffered long ,

                 A century long but it seems.

                The loss of health seem so wrong,

                  A scream of pain I silently scream.

At this moment, I am conscious, rare.

It brings my last gifts to you I bear.

I know this is a troublesome disease,

                                       Everyone thinks me an imbecile.

                             Only you say that I will be fine and I cease,

                      But I know that I am not facile.

  Plagued with problems of your unfaithful wife,

                            I’ve never seen you truly happy, so like me.

                   I love to paint, so like you, it is my life.

         In life I search but I find myself at sea.

Only after time spent with you do I find,

                        An understanding of our same sex love.

  I love you deep, with you we are entwined,

                             Our hearts as clear and clean as doves.

           But I deeply apologize and regret,

                     With you no more can I spend my life,

                                         Forever I will be in your debt,

           Through every fiber of my being.

     I feel pain, and I know, so do you.

                  Though I know you are my love, my medico,

                                 I cannot withhold this feeling of rue.

                I love you, my darling, be bold.

        I made the best choice for us.

                      I know you will be sad,

                           But don’t panic for it is thus,

The sadness will last forever.

                                             --------------------  By  Vincent Van Gough


Message: Love comes from sadness.

A VOTE OF LOVE FOR VALENTINE'S

Love finds its way,

                            Into our hearts, it brays.

Love between parents and child,

                                               Is one that is modest and mild.

It is natural and full of glee,

                                        Everlasting as the sun and sea.

Love between sisters and brothers,

                                                    In sibling rivalry may smother.

Love may not always runs as smooth,

                                                       Everlasting as balm may sooth.

Love between woman and man,

                                               Is one that we all plan.

It is capricious and sporadic,
                                          Everlasting as a change in Caddick.

On the day of  Valentine,

                                     Long for a love that is fine,
High and low we search,
                                    The place that true love lurches.

In love, we trust and desire,

                                        A tight rope to bring us higher.
A toast to love we raise,
                                    In love we find our place.




The arrow of Cupid pierce,
                                        The desire so strong and fierce.
A love that we may find,

                                    One that to both does bind.