Please don’t think me is stalking you or grovelling in the dirt when I reveal to you what I had buried deep in me while you was gone these past months.
At first, while you was gone, I try all kinda ways to tell you what I been feeling but circumstances out of me control prevent me. Dust cover-up me perfume notes. Heat, fierce like fire that people does make with rock-dry cow-dung, roast me and leave me wilting. All me flowery talk fall off and desert me.
And now that you’s here, showering me with gifts, I feel so blooming good, I ain’t want to rustle on and on, I just want to go to the root of the truth and tell you in plain, simple words how I did miss you while you was gone.
Not that I am saying that these people I leaf with didn’t treat me good. They did fling refreshment on me high and l’eau¸ and I must say, I been grateful that it was sweet l’eau…none o’ that septic tank l’eau like what them long-ago foreign neighbours used to dig up and shower their guest with, but anyway, enough of the l’eau talk…
…what I am trying to say, dearest Rain, is that no matter how much substitutes I get, you’s my One True Love. I’s just plain barking mad about you.
I know, I know you got to go away sometimes, and yes, we need space in we togetherness and so on and so forth, but when you go, I hope you don’t stay away too long, I hope I can worm me way into your affections whenever I need you.
Yours ever and always ‘til global warming do us part,