St. Valentine's Day
'Twas St. Valentine's Day I missed
And I assure you, nothing was amiss.
For I was, in my blank head's space,
Stuck betwixt stone and impossible place.
The crowd in gaiety should I follow,
And leave my lover to wallow?
Or find some other, more sensual way
And show my love some diff'rent day?
Surely, Valentine's Day is sweet.
Yet obligation of my love can't meet
the fie'ry heat I feel for thee
By sunset, 'twould do injustice to me.
For thee, my heart is unfathomable,
Unsinkable, strong, indestructible.
How can on express such depth in a day?
There cannot be just one way.
So be off with the mob of love!
Let those with passion so weak, it's a dove,
On Valentine's Day find their own,
While I reap the fruitful harvest I've sown!
What's sown canst be gathered in one sunset,
The labors I need, simply let,
For Rome, a day was not so quickly built,
Neither roses too, ne'er to wilt.
For I'll not make profanation
of the rose I've worked so indus'trous o'er.
So be still, and silent, while I
make myself the star of thine loving eye.
This was the first poem I wrote for my hunny when I missed Valentine's day this year. I hate the commercialism, and usually I protest by doing nothing. My fiancee, wonderful man that he is, understands, and usually doesn't expect anything in return for his romanticism. Only, this year, he made me sushi. I freaking love sushi, and I felt so badly that I didn't do anything for him. So, I wrote first this poem, and this next one.
A Red Mayhaps White Rose
My Love is a Red, mayhaps White Rose.
Yet, let others have their Red, Red Rose.
I shall have a simple, pure White Rose.
A Red Rose implied a fleeting Love;
A simple, scared, a weak kind of Love.
A White Rose is strong, everlasting Love.
So my Love is as a White, White Rose.
My Love is a thriving, lasting Rose;
A mock'ry of the Red, dying Rose.
'Twas St. Valentine's Day I missed
And I assure you, nothing was amiss.
For I was, in my blank head's space,
Stuck betwixt stone and impossible place.
The crowd in gaiety should I follow,
And leave my lover to wallow?
Or find some other, more sensual way
And show my love some diff'rent day?
Surely, Valentine's Day is sweet.
Yet obligation of my love can't meet
the fie'ry heat I feel for thee
By sunset, 'twould do injustice to me.
For thee, my heart is unfathomable,
Unsinkable, strong, indestructible.
How can on express such depth in a day?
There cannot be just one way.
So be off with the mob of love!
Let those with passion so weak, it's a dove,
On Valentine's Day find their own,
While I reap the fruitful harvest I've sown!
What's sown canst be gathered in one sunset,
The labors I need, simply let,
For Rome, a day was not so quickly built,
Neither roses too, ne'er to wilt.
For I'll not make profanation
of the rose I've worked so indus'trous o'er.
So be still, and silent, while I
make myself the star of thine loving eye.
This was the first poem I wrote for my hunny when I missed Valentine's day this year. I hate the commercialism, and usually I protest by doing nothing. My fiancee, wonderful man that he is, understands, and usually doesn't expect anything in return for his romanticism. Only, this year, he made me sushi. I freaking love sushi, and I felt so badly that I didn't do anything for him. So, I wrote first this poem, and this next one.
A Red Mayhaps White Rose
My Love is a Red, mayhaps White Rose.
Yet, let others have their Red, Red Rose.
I shall have a simple, pure White Rose.
A Red Rose implied a fleeting Love;
A simple, scared, a weak kind of Love.
A White Rose is strong, everlasting Love.
So my Love is as a White, White Rose.
My Love is a thriving, lasting Rose;
A mock'ry of the Red, dying Rose.
