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!