Excerpts from my first(and the last) love letter I search for your perfume which a zephyr carried with it after rubbing against your bodice or after playing in your hair. A mirage of your roguish glance drives me into a stupor. You have eclectic taste and sensitivity; not to forget firm cheeks and luscious lips. I can only imagine the hearty and willing kisses of yours having flavour of wild fruits from heavens garden. "Love is Love, come from where it may" A heart that beats at your approach, an eye that weeps when you go away are things so rare, so sweet, so precious that they must never be despised. Thinking of your village, I always wondered, how things would have been; meetings in the orchids of roses and tulips-yellow white purple wild flowers hither-thither. Secret getaways under oak trees with rabbits occupying my place in your lap. Amorous plays and delays in barns among the straw, still warm from the heat of the day, with clouds forming the skirt of the mountain and we sitting on top of it. I imagine you in warm clothes of fur with satin lining, gently covering your supple, silky skin and regrets for simple frank kisses more delicate in their unaffected sincerity with subtle flavours of charming and distinguished confessions of a nubile.