Those Days When Love Was Fun & Didn't Cost So Much!!...
       

       At school, July 10, 1978
       My dearest, sweetest, fondest, fantastic,
       extra-ordinary, paragon of beauty a.k.a Bose

       I hope this letter meets you in a fabulous state
       of metabolism, if so doxology.
       My principal aim of writing this letter
       to you is to gravitate
       your mind towards a matter of global and universal
       importance, which has been troubling my soul.

       The matter is so important, even as I am writing,        
       my adrenaline is 100 per cent on the Richter
       scale, my temperature is rising,
       the windvane of my mind is pointing North,
       South and East at the same time;
       the mirror in my eyes has only your
       divine image. Indeed when I sleep,
       you are the one in my medulla oblongata,
       and I dream about you.
       I went out to sea in my dream, and I saw you:
       surrounded by H20 and you in
       your majesty rose from the abdomen of the sea like
       Yemoja, the avatar of beauty.

       Oh, Lord be with us! We are thy servants.
       As you can see, I am in a serious dilemma.
       And I want you to take my matter seriously.

       At this junction, what our Lord
       said on this matter is germane.
       He says we should ask, and we shall be given, we
       should seek and we will find,
       and that we should knock, and it will be
       opened unto us. I am this
       10th day of the seventh month in the year of our
       Lord, one thousand, nine hundred and seven eight,
       asking, seeking and knocking at your door.          
       
       My prayer is that thou should open so that thy
       servant can enter. I want to
       wake up in the morning and see only your face.
       I want you to be the only sugar in my tea, the
       only fly in my ointment, the butter on my bread,
       the grey matter of my system, the oxygen in my
       head, the planet of my universe, the wall clock of
       my room. The conveyor  belt of my soul.
       I pray that you realise the gargantuan nature of my
       predicament. If you refuse, my life will be like
       tea without sugar, like a s nail without shell,
       a Xmas goat without a horn;
       in fact I'd become an orphan.
       In fact I'd kill myself. What is life if I
       can't wake up in the morning and
       behold your face? You model of
       pulchritude, patiently created
       by God on a Sunday morning before he went on a
       deserved holiday.

       Please Bose, let me be your Romeo.
       Make me the Adam to your Eve.
       Shakespeare said it all: if music be the food of love, play on.
       I want to emphasise, universally and responsibly, that you are love
       itself. You are the metaphor, oxymoron, thesis, antithesis, irony,  
       gerund, conjunction and the adverb of love.
       At this juncture, let me also say that
       geography of your body is a permanent allelluia.
       Not from your body, ammonia, urea and iodine- you are
       too beautiful for that, what I see in your body is
       milk and honey. At this juncture, brevity is the soul of wit.
       A stitch in time saves nine.
       Procrastination is the thief of time. An
       opportunity once lost can never be regained.
       Make hay while the sun shines. All that glitters is not gold.
       The journey of a thousand years begins with a step.
       What God has put  together let no man put asunder.
       To be a man is not an easy task even if
       God's time is the best. But time waits for no one.
       A man without love is like a fish out of water.
       I know you are a sagacious girl. If you like the
       veracity of what I am saying, please fill the
       attached form and let me  have it pronto.
       The mark at the bottom of this page is a kiss
       from me to you.

       I remain Your beloved, faithful, loyal, One and
       only admirer.
       
       
       Kelvin
       (The author is now a successful medical doctor!)