Dear You

Dreaming of fanciful schemes...

Dear you,
 
Taking moments reprieve from all that occupied my thoughts of late. Can be found up highest mountain peak, taking in the wide expanse before and above. The mountains may be covered in snow, but I am still a-bloom, and dreaming of fanciful schemes to put into action upon return. Someday.
 
Yours entwined in rope and wrapped in wool,
X

In the quiet of the afternoon...

Dear you,
 
In the quiet of the afternoon, I was able, with tail looped, to drag whole Alberta mountain ranges so they sat in perpetual sun. What roads there were proved obliging, and what person there was who noticed little minded if the route to the local fishing spot was not made longer. Doing this remains my peculiar whim and passes the hours,
 
Those mountains, one remarked, why, they’re darn near as close to the moon as the very stars.
 
Yours with a haired lasso for a tail,
X
 
(Odd to be able to see the moon and stars if basked in perpetual sun. Perhaps the writer refers to perpetuity in purely romantic sense.)

Looking over my shoulder...

Dear you,
 
Swimmer’s ear in Jersey is causing me to doubt myself. I spent half my time looking over my shoulder that I missed all glory of waterfalls at Plemont Caves.
 
Wending way to nearest pharmacy in search of a remedy to restore me to rights.
 
Yours in clogged and soggedness,
X
 
[Here the writer makes up a word to pair with ‘clogged’.]

Something delightfully normal and yet obscure...

Dear you,
 
It is true of any place both near and far that if one rises early, one might, just might, see something delightfully normal and yet obscure. A lizard (I believe) so very large and vivid green that keeps the locals warm in their beds at night. No need for insulation in the roof when such an obliging soul exists. A daily payment of bugs dipped in honey, and a little kindness to serve is all that’s needed to keep the cogs of village life a-turning.
 
Yours impressed by the surreal,
X