It's a Hallmark week. If you haven't given it a thought yet, let me be the first to remind you. I will be spending a portion of my day today making sure I'm properly prepared for this coming Thursday. I have written poems for many years, but since retirement I have tried to follow the accepted methodologies of current poetry. It's like Grandma Moses taking art classes. I'm not sure if I always like the new product. For example, I no longer use archaic language in my poetry. If you see a poem with my name attached written in this style, you will know it pre-dates the current era. In the old days, I didn't worry some contest judge would dismiss my work because I didn't follow the proper form. I just wrote because I wanted to say something. The first poem featured today was written in archaic style and revised to meet the modern standard. However, I couldn't change everything and keep the original thoughts. My wife had a bout with cancer over sixteen years ago, and after she was in remission for a while I wrote this for her on Valentine's Day.
To My Valentine with Love
Beneath the Earth’s clear azure dome
where souls in human bodies roam
roamed I with others of my kind
and sought what treasure I might find.
Great Giver placed, as was his way,
a treasure in my path one day.
Treasure not of gem or gold,
but beauty rare to have and hold.
It was my duty then to see
that no one take away from me
my treasure fair, as ere was given.
To keep it safe twixt hell and heaven.
And so I did, for I was strong.
The Giver gave before too long.
He twice my treasure multiplied,
and thrice my being satisfied.
But then one day a specter came
as dark and ominous a bane
that could be seen beneath Earth’s dome,
and tried to take my treasure home.
Much too large and fierce was he,
I had no defense in me.
So to the Giver I did plead.
I felt my very soul did bleed.
Don’t let this specter rob my trove
for lifeless through this world I’d rove.
My treasure’s now a part of me,
and I can’t tell which part it’d be.
The specter stayed, but faded some
still I feared, one night he’d come.
So I watched both day and night,
and begged the Giver’s strength and might.
Years have past and I can’t see
the specter that so frightened me.
Still I guard my treasure fair
as if it lurks unseen out there.
I daily to the Giver speak,
and thank him that he let me keep
that which he gave, who came to be
one with my soul. My love, ‘tis thee.
