Valentine’s Day has never been a favorite of mine. It always involved gift giving and I’ve never been comfortable buying for others. (See Post #145). I also had a bad ownership experience in the floral and plant business, where February 14th soon became the most dreaded delivery day of the year, and flowers lost their beauty for me. (See Post #136). My wife loves flowers and has given up on me to the point where she buys them for herself every week. There was a time when we lived in Austin, Texas that I brought roses to her each week, but unfortunately I’ve gotten out of the habit. Roses were inexpensive in Texas, except during the weeks preceding Valentine’s Day, when the prices would suddenly triple. I don’t blame the growers or floral shops because no amount of money is worth the hassles of dealing with the frustrating demands of the day. Restaurant owners I’m sure feel the same way. In fact, the only time that I really got upset with a restaurant owner was on Valentine’s Day, when bad service led to an exchange of foul language and I was told to “get out before I call the cops!” It was also a bad day for gang members in Chicago back in 1929.

My wife is out of town on business this Valentine’s Day, so I can wait to order roses later in the month and we can dine out the night after, solving both of my concerns. I bought her the traditional Limoges Box, in this case a porcelain “I Love You Forever” letter with a poem hidden inside. I’ve done something similar every Valentine’s Day, with the exception of the first, since we began dating. We initially got together the week before Valentine’s Day, and I simply presented her with a heart-shaped PEZ dispenser, with the promise that there might be better gifts in the future.

 

Forever Love 

 

We’re apart,
This Cupid’s Day.
Budget meetings,
Called you away.

I’d send flowers.
If you were here.
But once again,
They won’t appear.

But I’ll be there,
Next day at noon.
So back together,
Very soon.

Your split-apart,
Is wholly yours.
Our envious love,
Forever endures.

A Porcelain Postmark,
Delivered to you.
My Valentine,
No Postage due.

Forever love,
A day at a time.
Captured in,
Another rhyme.

Roses overdue,
To Adorable you.
You might quip,
What’s New?

Each week,
You buy your own.
Poor Sweetie Pie,
Like you’re alone.

So when we get back,
From the Indiana snow.
Three dozen roses,
Will arrive with a bow.

I Love You,
Every Day.
And miss you,
When you’re away.

copyright 2018 johnstonwrites.com