A Stamp*** (Poem)

It's just a small piece of paper,
Clean, worn, crumpled, or stained,
But the joy that the sight of it give me
Has never, no never, been named.

As I look at it I wonder
Of the strange sights which it has seen.
And I cannot help but want to know
On whose letter it has been.

Perhaps it's helped join two lovers,
But of that who could be sure?
Is it not just as likely
That it was written from boor to boor?

Is it a man or a lady that put it
With hands either firm or fine
On this old well-kept envelope
The color of Burgandy wine?

I can never know, but what difference
The stamp is, of course, the main thing,
It's just a small piece of paper
But joy upon joy it does bring.

Anon.....

Beautiful poem! Thanks for sharing!

Gussyboy1

Very nice it would be cool to know the writer

Ah, a poet stamp collector . . . perfect for the SCF!

Thanks sfgoda

What a great way to start the day.

Dianne

nice poem thanks for sharing