My Special Valentine
By Verna Lee Hinegardner
Within that eight-grade one-room school,
hearts pounded like the wild grape vines
in whipping wind, and speech was bold
till time to hand out valentines.
All day that decorated box
held hidden in secluded nooks,
the valentine deposited
with giggles, grins and backward looks.
Our teacher handed one by one
the artwork of our hearts. Although
my name was called quite often, there
was nothing from my special beau.
Deep anguish choked my tortured soul,
my brown eyes burned with unspent tears,
when Teacher said, "That’s all" but I
faked nonchalance beyond my years.
I died a dozen deaths as I
flipped, "I don’t care" and tossed my locks.
Then Teacher teased "What have we here?
There’s something else inside this box!"
He lifted the embellished lid.
I crossed my fingers as he read
the message on a tiny box:
"To Verna Lee from me," it said.
My face aflame, I stumbled forth
to claim the treasure that was mine,
a heart-shaped box of Red Hot Hearts
which pleaded, "Be my Valentine."
I never spoke one word of thanks.
How could I know which words to use?
I ducked my head to hide my blush
and buckled up my overshoes.
An Irish Valentine
By Maxine Spyres Hixon
My Irish heritage ... for this I’m ever —
There’s a depth of heart — home and love are
so much a part;
It matters not — "if you’re Irish ..."there’s nothing —
work or play that’s dull...
That spark that’s always an integral part ... of the
heart — is the start.
Valentine’s Day ... with the Irish is an everyday
Through hardships monumental ...famine and drought —
having to leave Emerald Isle —;
Still, what was deep set in brave loving hearts ...
coming to a new country — to dare;
A little bit of Ireland was brought with each one —
in laughter and smiling eyes from there.
Appreciation of family and friends — love of God —
runs strong — defeating despair —;
Being able to make even work fun ... is an ability
not many inherit;
A song in the heart — knowing difficulties are
surmountable — with faith in God is not so rare ...
Mostly you think one of Irish lineage — even though missing
the language lilt, — a Valentine without a care.
By Maxine Spryes Hixon
Valentine’s Day is the perfect day — with reason to say,
"I love you..."
But, why wait so long... someone more interested may
come along —;
Then, perhaps you’ll always wonder — why you wait around
the way you do;
In secret, you truly loved — for so very long... now your
heart is filled with sadness instead — of song.
Three hundred fifty-six days a year — letting years
Then, on Valentine’s Day... Cupid and arrow on card
With all the time gone by... the disquiet of heart giving
For each time, when thinking of you... heart feeling Cupid’s
arrow—for not mended — the rent.
Wasted time...is never brought back — to be
Loving to all hearts should be, not a rarity — but, an
Be it Valentine’s Day — when all type cards, with loving
words are sent;
Or Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday,
Saturday — all year... giving our heart!