When E-mail Doesn't Work
(You still have pigeons)
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It's funny how one feels
About those who are so far
I think I would be able to reach you
If I traded the TARDIS for a car.
Or what about a lion?
Could I trade the TARDIS for that?
Although I'm sure I wouldn't feel quite safe
Riding on the back of a giant cat.
I am not quite sure
If a cat can go into space
But at least there will be lots of room
For the giant thing to pace.
And can a car go into the Time Vortex?
I am completely baffled there
I'll try to make sure that it will be junky
Or else I'll have to pay a fare.
I would too, trade the TARDIS for you
(oh crap, I made a rhyme)
But I am dreadfully, terribly, deathly afraid
That I would simply run out of time.
So I'll console myself with writing you these silly poems,
Here comes the pigeon!
It should be there by the morrow
So just hang on a smidgeon.
One more thing I need to say
One thing I'm sure everyone knows
You are my life, you are my core,
I love you, my darling Rose.
Yours forever, Doctor
My lovely Rose, I'll be waiting for your letter, via the pigeon as always. So sorry I don't have time to write the usual long letter – I just had a scrap of paper handy. "Goodbye, goodbye… parting be such sorrow that I say farewell till the morrow." P.S. I'm going to have another poem for you next time!
All my love, Doctor