The essence of a letter is a quiet magic,
A blend of ink and paper, fresh and pure,
The crisp scent of new paper; cool and waiting,
Like a soft touch, a promise to endure.
Can you feel the weight of something unspoken, waiting to be shared?

It rises with a whisper, soft and alive,
Carrying the stories yet to be told,
The ink, dark and rich, breathes deep and vivid,
A scent like memory, both gentle and bold.
What stories lie hidden, waiting for the right moment to emerge?

Each mark upon the page, a thought made real,
Earthy and tender, like time...