I'm no Valentino

I wouldn't buy candy
to find sweet love 
filled with soft nougat centers
offer greenhouse flowers
bitten cold by night air
or diamonds forever
only in loud magazines

I'd write a story
full of ridiculous promises
chapters of passion
written in the forbidden languages
of ancient civilizations
lost at sea

I'd play music
composed in night sweats
melodies of moonlight
vibrating from the tarnished brass
of a saxophone dream
with a backbeat of why not

I'd lie in wait
a stalker of infatuation
dressed like a grinning jester
dancing the quick steps
of a hungry cat

I'd offer collections
of beachglass and beer coasters
small scribbled stanzas
lining the windows
framing a red rose sunrise
on a kiss-ass day

I'd pour the wine of pharoah's
kept in sky temples
aged in hidden oak casks
and tended for a century
by timid maidens of mystery
in ancient folk tales

I'd lock the doors of yesterday
and trade a year of my madness
for one let loose adventure
of lub dub heart beat freedom
and a valentine surprise


               	 © Chuck Beals   February 1999