Christine phoned and we arranged to go out on Thursday evening. She has definitely set her heart on clearing off to Jersey next year to work in a bar. God knows how life will be without her bringing devastation and chaos to it. I must write to her soon because our correspondence is of vital historical importance. Since 1973 she's sent me over 70 witty, wonderful letters all of which I have stored away. One day we'll be bandied about in English Literature classes and on 'O' Level syllabuses with the likes of John Donne and E.M. Forster.
An Ode to Christine
You have for five years been a source of great joy,
You bring warmth to my heart which none can destroy.
Your virtues are many,
Your faults are quite rare,
But I'd never tell you,
I don't think I'd dare.
It's a pleasure to see you,
Of this I am sure,
My heart beats like fury,
I know of no Cure.
So, off to Jersey and see if I care,
I'd like to come with you,
But I don't have the fare.
M.L.R.
