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St. Valentine
to my one love, "Heather":
that you'd find this letter
bound in worn, faded leather
my love carried by a feather
to you, forever my better.
These words read
will stay true long after I'm dead
when I'm ever asleep in bed
you are my water, my bread
even in weeks when I'm not fed.
In you is bound
all the beauties found
between the end of space around
all the way to the little ground
that finds my head laying down.
From Yours truly, "John",
I, the buck, you, the fawn,
prance your dance in the dawn.
in the sun's light is drawn
little lines of pure light surely spawn.
