Prescription For Love

I am sure you have all had love poems or notes left in your message boxes from time to time, canned or original. Unfortunately far more often the former. Just when you got to the last line and your eyes were welling up with tears of happiness, imagining your lover laboriously composing the soul warming verses, only to find the bottom line that says 'Something.com and urges you to click on it, promising endless supplies of such borrowed sentiments. It conjured up a picture in my mind the number of 'professional lovers' who turn out hundreds of these love literature each day, then some of them go home in the evening to a precooked TV dinner alone and an empty bed.

I guess not too many of us remember or even know that there was a time, during generations and way back in the long human history, love letters and poems were a part of everybody's life, at least for those blessed enough to have found love, and those in the hope of finding it. Each letter from your beloved was the first thing you looked for amongst the day's post. You could tell the one from him/her by that special handwriting, the colour of the envelope had been chosen to be his/her signature or to please you. Even slightly scented maybe if the sender was female. You opened the letter ever so carefully as not to ruin it's shape, with your heart pounding, longing, anticipating ...

You read it in private, fast at first because you were always in a great hurry to know the entire content; then you went over it slowly, once, twice, most likely many times. Lines and lines of words, each tenderly written by hand, wrapped with love that delights and touches the heart and caresses the soul. You close you eyes for a while, let the words dance about in your mind, trying to remember them, savour them, before you lovingly put it away in a special place, together with all the others, thrilled how that little drawer was pilling up, filled to the brim with love!

That, lamentably, an lost art today, substituted by SMS on mobiles written in shorthand and symbols; the one today you decipher to be saying: 'luf U. quickie 2Nite ur plas?' Or the one less coarse, an email amongst the dozens you receive each day, looking exactly the same as the one reminding you to pay your back tax; or the one looking suspiciously like spam. You pick the one from the new lover you had fallen head over heel with to click first, only to feel the strange sensation that you had already read that before ... It's wording is identical as that you had once from Mr. Wrong or Miss Error, whom you had sent off packing sometime back. They are both obviously 'Something.com' members.

I have even had some love poems and messages hidden in a web-site address, which indicated that if I wanted to know what the message was about, I needed to click on the site URL to find out! Naturally I never bother doing so. You see, also too much bother for me to find out.

Tag:ProfessionalLovers

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