I have three gifts in recent days received.
The first was, to all eyes but mine, a book:
But this to me means wonder, and strange luck,
And words from which this stranger world is weaved.
Second, was a way of holding hands.
This means a firmer friendship, and yet, softer;
A gift which means both quietness, and laughter;
And closer is the touch which understands.
The third, I guess, was given with his eyes:
And even now, I know not what it means.
But given these three gifts, such sentiments
Must mean more than receiving can surmise.
I guess some gifts are more, er, mystical than others.