Be My Valentine?

                                                                 Be My Valentine?

Dearest Mark,

You don't know me but I know you.
You have never heard my voice or looked upon my face but you and I have shared so many things. We've stood quietly together and watched the sun die, spitting and sputtering into the churning waves of some wild river.

We've white-washed fences, explored bat-infested caves, searched for pirate gold and listened in awe to our own eulogies. And today we share passage on the same steamer boat.

Perhaps, you noticed me there in the moonlight that star spangled evening as I gazed with dreamer's eyes into the distance?

Perhaps, we exchanged pleasantries that August morn while the mist still whispered on the water.
If I close my eyes, I can still smell the rich heady smoke from your pipe and feel the prickly heat begin to run creases down my back.

I can recall the warmth of your fingers touching mine as we grasped for the same space on the handrail to steady ourselves against the bucking of the boat.

We prove quite the striking couple you and I
Me in my traveling gown, all prim and proper, my long hair neatly pinned beneath my hat and you in your white suit, string tie and broad fedora pulled low shadowing the early rays.

"Mark Twain!" A deck hand shouts.

"Mark Twain!"

You echo the words softly in your slow southern style and I watch the laugh lines tug at the corners of your mouth. Your smile glows and your eyes catch the fire and I realize you are already away on another adventure. I move closer to you and breathe open-mouthed, sucking in the whole hot sweet taste of another tale in the making.

"Take me with you," I whisper.

But my words are vapor. Drowned and silenced, lost somewhere in the pounding "wa-whoosh, wa-whoosh" of the giant paddle wheel.

Without your notice, I slip my valentine into your suit coat pocket

Perhaps, you will find it a happy surprise some dark and stormy night when words are obscure and muddied like the waters of the mighty Mississippi.

Think of me then as you read my heart thoughts etched upon red paper and lace.
My Dearest Mark, I send you this greeting on the sweetest of days.

Valentine's Day
February 14

I ask you this question
I've placed it in rhyme
I'm your Huckleberry
Will You Be Mine?

Faithful Forever
Your Valentine

Love, Hare
C Copyright by DJL 2005. 2008

Posted by Hare at 3:46 AM