Valentine's Day
Originally published in the 70's
Saint Valentine's day was the day of revelation. You had worried and wondered, if he really did like you. There was positively no give away of the secret that you withheld. It was something that you could not share, not even with your sister nor your best friend, especially not your brother, he would have teased you unmercifully.
He did put some valentines in the box, by some miracle could your name be on one of them. There was also the possibility that the person that you disliked very much would stuff the Valentine box with Valentines for you with sweet nothings written all over them. This would be the living end of embarrassment because you felt like the entire world would know and believe that you liked him.
Valientine's Day was a day of excitement, you hands perspired, and your hair wouldn't stay in place, your long stockings itched and your underwear showed at the neck.
Your name has been called a dozen times and you have a handful of Valentines. The moment you have been waiting for has finally arrived. There it is modest in size, the most beautiful red that you have ever seen, with double hearts and arrow completely through both.
The verse says "We are a pair of hearts". Your heart pounds like you have been doing push ups. You safely tuck it inside your literature book next to Elizabeth Browning's "How do I love thee, let me count the ways". You have never handled your literature book so fondly before. Mama's picture box is much too public for your prized possession.
In the weeks that follow, he sometimes stands behind you in line when you march in for books. He lets you drink from the dipper first and sometimes throws the ball directly into your hands, on the playground. When you are playing Red Rover, in spite of how hard you hold, he breaks through the line and nods that you are the one he wants to take back to his side.
Ah! spring and young man's fancy turns to love. Your true love acts a little smarty on the baseball field and is a show off. He is still wearing his long underwear and it is a little dirty around the neck. He shares a piece of licorice with your best friend. The final break comes when you see her name printed in ink inside his dirty palm, with hearts and arrows all over the place.
It was not too hard to give him up. His Valentine found a final resting place among the hot coals in the fire that your daddy had built for the cool spring nite, and no one will ever know, besides there is a new guy in school, who sits in the desk behind your own, and he ain't "bad lookin'".
Originally published in the 70's
Saint Valentine's day was the day of revelation. You had worried and wondered, if he really did like you. There was positively no give away of the secret that you withheld. It was something that you could not share, not even with your sister nor your best friend, especially not your brother, he would have teased you unmercifully.
He did put some valentines in the box, by some miracle could your name be on one of them. There was also the possibility that the person that you disliked very much would stuff the Valentine box with Valentines for you with sweet nothings written all over them. This would be the living end of embarrassment because you felt like the entire world would know and believe that you liked him.
Valientine's Day was a day of excitement, you hands perspired, and your hair wouldn't stay in place, your long stockings itched and your underwear showed at the neck.
Your name has been called a dozen times and you have a handful of Valentines. The moment you have been waiting for has finally arrived. There it is modest in size, the most beautiful red that you have ever seen, with double hearts and arrow completely through both.
The verse says "We are a pair of hearts". Your heart pounds like you have been doing push ups. You safely tuck it inside your literature book next to Elizabeth Browning's "How do I love thee, let me count the ways". You have never handled your literature book so fondly before. Mama's picture box is much too public for your prized possession.
In the weeks that follow, he sometimes stands behind you in line when you march in for books. He lets you drink from the dipper first and sometimes throws the ball directly into your hands, on the playground. When you are playing Red Rover, in spite of how hard you hold, he breaks through the line and nods that you are the one he wants to take back to his side.
Ah! spring and young man's fancy turns to love. Your true love acts a little smarty on the baseball field and is a show off. He is still wearing his long underwear and it is a little dirty around the neck. He shares a piece of licorice with your best friend. The final break comes when you see her name printed in ink inside his dirty palm, with hearts and arrows all over the place.
It was not too hard to give him up. His Valentine found a final resting place among the hot coals in the fire that your daddy had built for the cool spring nite, and no one will ever know, besides there is a new guy in school, who sits in the desk behind your own, and he ain't "bad lookin'".
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