For My Next Valentine
I wanna send you flowers
Or maybe some Mardi Gras cake;
To become your next someone
I’d do whatever it’d take,
Get you look up from your phone,
And get you on over here;
But to take such heartfelt risks
Causes such a shrinking fear.
Daisies, ‘glories, roses, or tulips?
Purple and green and some gold?
Or sip some liquor, ‘tis quicker,
At least so’s I’ve been told.
But I want us pure, clear, and real
Not lost in a sick dawn’s early mist—
As a week later you’d do a whimsey start
Remembering how we had finally kissed.
Call me a florist of winged feet
For a bouquet to melt yonder rock!
Look up, look up from that anchor phone—
Eyes to eyes, can’t we find room to talk?
I wanna send you some flowers
(And someday plan wedding cake);
Can I become your next someone?
Look up, look up, for Heaven’s sake!
Posted on February 11, 2021, in Poem and tagged cake, daisies, first kiss, florist, getting noticed, iPhone, liquor's quicker, Mardi Gras, mardi Gras Colours, morning glories, new love, risking love, romance, roses, tulips, Valentine's Day, wanting better, wedding cake, whimsey. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.