the origin of this; embarrassment on my part; unfelt and unsent

Dear GRAVEMAN,

As far as I can remember I haven't been in Rome but I do write poems. I didn't stand inside the Colosseum, but I do feel about being surrounded on all sides. I know about mantels and that no flag covers my window. Only mere curtains do. Wind blows through them which I find especially soothing on a certain date. You might say that I am unknown. She is a spectre you will say. But it was she who walked across the river Avon for the first time, passed burials and who spoke from the Mound with her twin sister. It was she that moved the stones to where they're was never supposed to be no door; to that greenest windswept plateau; to that other realm. Inside there is where her journey began and where the name Traveler was bestowed on her. Somewhere amidst a small circled wall of crumbling stone I awoke. Since then I keep a log of my travels that no human has ever seen and it is my greatest wish that they become known to all earthdwellers. I can't do it alone. And in my realm your name is often heard in furtive whispers so perhaps sharing my log with you will bear fruit. However little the reward will be with your soil being the way it is. Bear in mind that I do not write in mere english and that you will need a scribe to translate the ancient texts that I wish to see the light of real day.

Sincerely yours,

Traveler