I write to you from beyond the ocean,
my situation advantageous.
I find myself with pen in hand,
my urge to tell infectious.
I called upon our dearest friend,
whilst walking about the Surrey downs.
We exchanged pleasant conversation
at the old tearooms in town.
A full account of happenings,
within the Commonwealth and country,
were passed over the jam and cream
in between. tales of the gentry.
I spoke of my play in London,
how Barrie had been resurrected.
I laughed at her dismay of my actions,
you know I am not one to be directed.
Our friend finds the country more to her taste,
she has acquired a shoebox bakery.
It’s a quaint shop behind the church,
but upon my word the drapery!
Now for the strictest confidence,
this is our tete-a-tete:
You-know-who has favoured a certain creature,
shortly to be announced in the gazette.
I asked questions in the usual manner,
but she was not willing to confess.
No matter, I had occasion to pass by the shop,
and found her admiring grandmama’s dress.
Now I bound your silence to this letter,
we must only speak in whispers.
I’ll forward you the refreshed pages,
when we can happily call her sister.
Charlie Ann Alford 