Letters

There's a great big moon that's shining
Through the dark and trees,
There's an angel and a butterfly
Who have bored me to my knees.
There's a sink that's full of dishes
And some wishes and a bin,
And a basin full of nothing
For me to keep my troubles in.
There's a carpet and a pleasure
And a near one and a miss,
And a bowl of warm spaghetti
And a fridge that used to hiss.
There's a rainbow and a message
And a mission and a book,
And a brand new set of telescopes
Through which we used to look.
There's a pink one and a blue one
And a silly waste of time,
And a nutshell and a Marmaduke
And the distant smell of lime.
There are seven yellow flowers
And sixteen purple bells,
And a brand new set of Hula-hoops
And disinfectant smells.
There are Wednesdays and new wheelie-bins
And some pockets and a noise,
And some tiny yellow sandals
That are fit for girls and boys.
There is nothing but a feeling
And a forgotten thing or two
In the memory of letters
That once I sent to you.