Word came you're cold, again,
an icy wind has blown to smithereens
the summer warmth,
and thrown a frosty rug upon
the window panes.
What will you do, my love,
your fireplace is mute
no crackles can be heard
and night is yet to come.
I hurry now, my love,
and from the shores far to your South
I shall despatch to you
a whole flotilla, bundled with new twine
of driftwood, you will know it
by the tiny sails I shall attach
and by the bottle post, my note inside,
a verse straight from my heart of hearts,
may verse and wood bring warmth to you,
and do, my love, send back a word to me.
Herbert Nehrlich 2
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bottle-post/
