My Valentine
On this cloudy Valentine’s Day, he is seated alone
In the cold kitchen, to pen a poem to his beloved
He is wearing his good suit and tie, which perhaps
Have seen better days - yet his dignified carriage
Overrides such banalities
“My eternal Valentine, need I ask you to be mine?
Perhaps you were also in a past life, for when I
First dived into the pool of your eyes…
I was mesmerized as I recognized the spark…
Of my other missing half
I am a poor man, yet I feel like a millionaire…
For you have chosen my love above others
Your love lightened my backbreaking labor
It is just a necessary means to indulge your fancy
The thought of you infuses joy to the suffocating routine
My calloused hands seem to touch heaven
Every time they wander over your landscape
To support your tear drop breasts
Or when my hungry lips seek those
To suckle and nourish my soul
Is love perhaps a little portal to heaven?
As our spirits soar in flight, as high as the stars
In mutual joy we recognize the special spark
Of the one we promised to meet - yet again
When sent to this valley of tears, fears, and scarce joy
I feel rich because I have found what men search for --
Perhaps all of their lives. With the fervor of the miner who
Toils hunched over from dawn to dusk, excavating
Through the dirt and filth, in search of that very unique
Diamond, emerald, or huge nugget of gold…
Sustained only with the belief, that once he finds it…
His luck will change overnight. I’ve found a particle of
The sublime, which brings such immense joy,
That no other man-made vice, gold bullion, or cash
Can induce - because true love speaks to the soul
Thank you for being my valentine.”
He looks at his watch; he must not be late
With much sacrifice, he has saved for two dozen roses
And contracted a trio, to serenade his beloved
For two weeks he gave up coffee with the boys
And dined on tea, butter, and toast
He endured the cold to keep his heating costs low
Because that’s what a man does and more,
To express his deep love
On the way out, he encounters his neighbor
Gallantly he offers her a long-stemmed rose
“Happy Valentines Day,” he says
Her haggard face is instantly transformed
As her eyes sparkle anew when she is transported
To when she was a young woman, and came home…
To find her senses overpowered by the heady scent of roses
The whole living room was awash in roses of all colors
It resembled a flower shop with the same bittersweet
Scent of a flower market, as her husband smiled expectantly
To gauge her reaction, much like a boy awaits praise for good grades
Her expression, more eloquent than mere words could say
Right on time he meets up with the musical trio
On cue they play her favorite song
As the sky weeps, for it cannot know such deep love
Then stops for a bit as it recalls that not all men are
Blessed with true love - or embrace its basic principle
Her love places lovingly the roses into the vase
He inserts in between those his poem of love
He carefully minds his weak knees…
As he leans on his cane for support
To clean with his handkerchief the marble headstone
photograph "Tendresse" by Michel Pilon
