Valentine Sonnet 2008

When my co-workers, early in the year,
Decry the weather, I cannot agree.
Though February’s frost is foul, I fear
That global warming bodes not well for me.
The heat of summer turns me inside out:
I sweat and whine and generally wilt,
My energy run dry, until about
October, when cool air restores my lilt.
My colleagues curse the constant thaw and freeze,
And yearn for rays of sun and skies of blue.
I sympathize, but sing them my reprise:
If winters are to shorten, I am through.
So sleet and slush and snow, I think you’re fine.
While you exist, you’ll be my valentine.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Valentine Sonnet 2006

We’re married now, and Valentine’s a breeze
For giving, his gift long ago procured.
Receiving is much harder, though, and ease
With what he might get me is unassured.
Flowers are nice, but with each fresh bouquet
Come sneezes — pollen allergies, I fear.
There are no benefits in lingerie
When flabby thighs accuse me from the mirror.
Which brings us to the best and worst surprise,
The giant heart-shaped box of chocolate:
Its creamy and seductive freight belies
The fat the aforementioned thighs will get.
But it’s the thought that counts. His thoughts are clear,
And thoughts — not gifts — are what my heart holds dear.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Valentine Sonnet 2005

The weather man said, “Partly cloudy skies
Sunday, your day before Thanksgiving… um…”
And then today, one of the local guys
Nearly ad-libbed a mistake just as dumb.
These holiday misnomers made us laugh
For sure, but got me thinking all the same:
Perhaps they’re not that different, and the gaffe
Was thinking of the feeling, not the name.
Valentine’s and Thanksgiving, each a time
To give thanks for the people in your life
Who love you. Today’s special because I’m
Focusing my affection as a wife.
I’m thankful for my husband and his cheer
Today and every other of the year.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Valentine Sonnet 2004

(Last year, my first draft was a giddy rhyme
Too treacly smitten for you all to see.
This sonnet may approach it, but this time
I know there’s nowhere else I want to be.)
This sunny Saturday, I woke up late,
And rather than run errands and the like,
I found I had a more important date
With couch, TV, and my fiance, Mike.
So now my poem’s two days late. I know
I have no good excuse, beyond the fact
That since I’m lacking Cupid as my foe,
My witty pen’s forgotten how to act.
This year of joy has served to intertwine
My heart with that of my true Valentine.

Happy (belated) Valentine’s Day.

Valentine Sonnet 2003

The closet. Friday morning. It’s the same
As every other morning, with one snag:
It’s Valentine’s Day, and the little game
Of what to put on makes me want to gag.
The problem? Well, the hamper’s full, for one,
Which whittles down my options to just two:
The light pink blouse, or black knit sweater. Fun!
I don’t think either one of them will do.
It’s sweet like cotton candy, this pink shirt,
And cute is not the look I’m going for.
But black suggests I’m full of bitter hurt,
When actually my wardrobe’s just a bore.
If I had done my laundry, I’d be great.
Hmm… Maybe Target opens up by 8:00…

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Valentine Sonnet 2002

For five years, this place where I resided,
Fraught with humidity and wicked cold,
And fine features for which I was too old
Or too young, I cheerfully derided:
Fort Wayne, that shining beacon on the plain
Beckons, proudly modelling the Midwest.
Its monotone I’m sure I handled best
When you nicely listened to me complain.
So here I am. My well-appointed scheme
For being different things is wearing thin,
And I find myself strangely reliving
Days from those five years, but now less extreme –
My whining I now regard with chagrin,
And (for now) find this city forgiving.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Valentine Sonnet 2001

In winter’s cold, in February’s chill,
What’s needed most is summer’s firy heat.
No Valentine to keep me warm, I still
Must find a decent way to toast my feet.
I’ve tried to find companionship and failed –
Not Internet, not dog, not sultry look.
I keep my options open, and I’ve nailed
My, “No thanks. I’ll just sit and read this book.”
To sources more mechanical I turn,
And now my solace comes from natural gas.
It’s not the Valentine for which I yearn,
Nor do the gains outweigh the cost. Alas,
Reduced to pay for warmth, I think it sucks:
I’ve no love, and I’m out 400 bucks.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Valentine Sonnet 2000

While cleaning, lodged between the stacks I see
A long neglected volume, weak with age.
I gently lift the cover, setting free
The lines that live eternal on each page.
Shall I compare thy tender verses to
My single solitary life? I read
Of love’s sweet fever — complimenting true
Or lying flattery — a willful deed.
I vow to rest, an ever-fixed mark
Among the lucky vessels on the shelf.
All sonnet-filled, the library now dark,
I linger: though alone, not by myself –
For you from centuries past have now become
My player, love and poet, all in one.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Valentine Sonnet 1999

One year ago, my Onne came to me –
Epitome of feline grace and style,
Most vocal, most exotic, most carefree –
And shared my heart and pillow for a while.
Of course, we had our differences: it’s true.
And nearly all of you heard me protest
About his impish faults ’til I was blue,
Not knowing it was love that I expressed.
Affectionate, good humored, paragon
Of love most unconditional, he made
The finest cat companion. Now he’s gone,
My debt to him will never be repaid.
This strongest, truest love in every way
Is what I honor this Valentine’s Day.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Valentine Sonnet 1998

I fear this Valentine just isn’t good–
It’s not for lack of trying, though, I swear!
I brainstormed till my brain was dry. I would
Have written, but ideas weren’t there.
I went to friends, to family for advice,
And certainly I was not wont for that.
Suggestions ranged from chocolate, to ice
Skating, to the arrival of my cat.
Yet none of these provided me the seed
Of love, of romance worthy of my rhymes.
It should have been a piece of cake, this deed–
I’ve penned the perfect sonnet many times.
So could it be that this was hard to do
Because my sweetheart’s distance has me blue?

Happy Valentine’s Day

Valentine Sonnet 1997

This Valentine’s I finally have a guy,
Which, so far, I’ve decided is quite nice –
Although the obligated gift-to-buy
Has dragged me to the wire, and still no dice.
Silk boxers? Will he wear them? Don’t think so.
A dozen roses? No, they’ll die too soon.
A box of cherry-centered chocolates? No,
O’er sugary nothings he’s not bound to swoon.
I thought to write a poem to his charms,
But rhyme and meter aren’t my domain.
A private little weekend? — Sound alarms!
The scheduling alone would be a pain.
I need more time… You say the big day’s when?
You think my card will get to him by then?

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Valentine Sonnet 1996

While deep within my cluttered, focused cave
The world around me moves, or so they say.
I believe them, because I can’t see, save
The things I need to do by yesterday.
Yet, strangely, the few things that I CAN see
Are turning pink and mauve and red and white.
The reason for these changes? Don’t ask me!
I figure that I’m just not seeing right.
However, looking back to last year’s verse,
I do recall the purpose of this game.
Awareness of the day, though, makes it worse,
Not better — stress and tension stay the same.
Alas, I’m buried so deep that the love
In Cupid’s bow cannot lift me above.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Valentine Sonnet 1995

On 2/14, that pinkest day of days,
Seems all my friends have the same job to do –
It’s picking just the card that offers praise
To their significant other (or two).
I go into the shop with good intent –
To help them find “The Right Card,” to endure.
But by the time we’re done, I have to vent
The fact I’m made to feel so insecure.
Valentine’s Day, filled not with joy but pain –
Well, this time I refuse to take the slam.
I shouldn’t need repeat the old refrain:
“I am normal — I swear to god I am!”
So rather than endure Hallmark duress,
I just won’t venture into CVS.

Happy Valentine’s Day

Valentine Sonnet 1994

For once, the sky in Boston is now blue.
The sun, he shines above my coastal town.
However, melting snow leaked in my shoe,
And on my face (sniff, sniff) I wear a frown.
The wond’rous snow that fell a week ago
Is seeping slowly out into the street.
Where once admired powder used to go,
Now only slush and slime at people’s feet.
This day of red, of passion’s vivid hue,
Is looking more like sandy, salty brown.
And while I wear a sober icy blue,
Inside, all red with ire, I’m feeling down–
The snow, the object of my love’s desire,
Is falling prey to St. Valentine’s fire.

Happy Valentine’s Day.