Tag Archives: Valentine’s Day

My Valentine

images-3

Last night while my husband and I watched the Best of Antiques Road Show, I suffered a serious sugar Jones. I twitched and squirmed, fighting the itch, but when that dear old fellow from Pensacola brought out his grandmother’s collection of cookie jars, I had to eat something sweet.

“I think I’ll put the dinner dishes in the dishwasher,” I said and slithered to the kitchen. David wasn’t paying any attention to me so I tiptoed into the pantry to see what I could find. There’s a stash of goodies tucked behind the canned tomatoes, a place David never goes.

 I forget about this hidey-hole most of the time, especially since I’ve been tracking everything I eat, but the urge for sweets had reached beyond my resistance. I opened the pantry door, flipped on the light, and inched myself into the former half-bath now painted bright orange and fitted with an Elfa shelving system. Past the cookbooks and extra shopping bags. Past the flat of V8 juice and containers of Comet cleanser. Past the two bales of paper towels (we both brought home a supply from Costco last week). I reached my trembling hand into the shelves. I felt over the beans, the tuna, the mushrooms and way into a corner darker than the shadow of Sonoma Mountain. I felt behind the crushed tomatoes with basil, the tomato garlic puree, and the diced tomatoes with chipotle. I nudged the edge of a paper bag and tugged. It pulled free and bounced across the tops of the cans and into the light. Candy!

“Ana, you should see this,” David yelled from the living room.

“I can’t hear you,” I called back, stalling as I peeked into the stash.

Hmmm. Unwrapped peppermints from before written history. Tiny bags of spicy tamarind candy we got with our check at that place we ate lunch in Mexico City three years before. Half a Figamajig that looked like the rats may have enjoyed the other half (you remember the rats in the walls?) One cornhusk-wrapped mystery candy from the local Mexican market.

Bingo!

valentines-day-candy-hearts-1

Two boxes of NECCO Sweethearts Conversation Hearts addressed: “To: Teacher      From:   Marisela” a Valentine gift saved from our class celebration last year—because I don’t really like them. But I was desperate. I took one box and pushed the rest of the stash back behind the cans.

You remember those chalky-sweet pastel hearts that come in not quite distinct flavors that we used to give and get in grade school? The ones with catchy sayings stamped on them like BE MINE, MY VALENTINE, LOVE YA and BABY BOY. Well, they’re still around and have some new messages. How about BFF or TOP CHEF or RECIPE 4 LOVE?

I sat back down on the couch, tore into the box and popped a brown MY GIRL heart into my mouth—sweet, but not exactly chocolate. Just like I remembered.

“What are you eating?”

“Valentine’s candy,” I said and passed a blue ROCK OUT over.

“Is this a hint?”

images-6

“Let’s go out for dinner this year. Maybe to De Schmire.” I dropped a pink DRESS UP into his outstretched hand and displayed a green GLAM before eating it.

He handed the pink heart back and suggested Cucina Paradiso.

images-5

“We went there for our anniversary.” I reminded him. “I’m in the mood for French.”

David helped himself to the box of candy hearts, dumped it out on top of his Sudoku book and sifted with his forefinger until he found the message he wanted— a purple POSH—showed me then ate it. I grabbed a pink one with a slightly garbled message, SO WHAT it looked like, and displayed it.

“You have a tux,” I joked.

He studied the remaining messages and selected SPICE IT UP. “How about Thai. We could go to Sea on the Boulevard.”

I ate several orange hearts in a row: TAKE A WALK, LOSER, WISE UP.

“De Schmire serves French onion soup,” I said, cajoling. David flipped a yellow I CARE heart into my lap. It fell onto the floor and the dog sniffed it then turned her head away. I don’t like the yellow ones very much either—banana. I spied a white TABLE 4 TWO and flicked it back at him.

A purple PLEASE ME flew at me.

I tossed back a yellow NO WAY.

David handed me a green SWEET TALK.

I responded with a blue MY TREAT.

“Ok, you win.” He threw up his hands. “De Schmire it is.” He made a reservation through his Droid. “But I don’t want to dress up.” He handed me a images

I passed him a pink OK and gave him a smooch.

I’m saving the white I LOVE YOU for Valentine’s Day.

images-2

First published by the Petaluma Post February, 2011
Advertisements

1 Comment

Filed under Columns, Humor

Recklessly Tangle Thunder and Blossoms

At that talk I attended with Linda Watanabe McFerrin she mentioned an exercise she uses and  handed out a list of rather sexy sounding words:  tongues, Paris, salamander, lush, indigo, vanish, braille, silkily, Argentina, lips, apricots among many. She said, “don’t think about it. Pick 7 words. Write a sexy scene using these words.” I asked the class to pick their words and write whatever sexy thing they could think of, be it memoir, poetry, fiction. The following are some responses:

Farewell Training bra. So long hope chest.

Michael Layne

 

Her mirror’s reflection, mocking, as she stands bare.

Reflecting back, yikes nothing’s there.

I’ve seen other girl’s grow, big and thrive.

Isn’t it time, for mine to arrive?

I’ll love them fondly if I get a darling pair.

                           Perfectly perky and sweetly fair.                       

            To Victoria’s Secrets, a bra for them to caress.

            So hard to choose, I leave the display a mess.

                   ****           

            Finally they come, I redden and blush

            Return to Victoria’s in a hell of a rush.

            I find the perfect bra and press it to my lips

            I check it in the mirror, my God I’m getting hips.

            I pick the one with a touch of glitter.           

Then a selfie, I post it on Twitter.

            A lush photo, of my two stunning sisters

            Once lovingly in play, the envy of misters.

 

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Guy  Sandler

TONGUES
PULSE
LOVINGLY 
REMEMBER
DAMP
KISSES
UNDERNEATH.

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Darkness Be Not Dark

Don Tynan

dtnapa@hotmail.com

   In deft darkness, my fingertips braille your face.

   In silence, they dance across the beckon of your cheeks.

   As a thief, they secretly kiss your lips, and

   In heart’s desire, they silkily caress your hair.

   They hear the whisper of your pulse, and

   The blossom of your breathe.

   They catch the subtle quiver in your skin, and

   Even the glitter of your starry want.

   They be not sinister in darkness, but brilliant hero.

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Valentine Poem

Dina Corcoran

 

My father bellows thunder, it fills us with despair.

Does reason slumber or will he be fair?

We have adored each other with eyes and hands and lips

But pungent prejudice swirls and forbids.

 

His soul is indigo to me now, the color of midnight.

Yours is white, the color of light.

Why can’t he see your soul and forget your ebony skin?

Must our love vanish into the darkness of ignorance,       

Or might it be allowed to take wing?

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Short Poem of Repose

(who knows?)

Kent Ward Butzine

kentwrd@gmail

Don’t stress, regress.

Don’t pine, recline.

Be mine, supine.

Say “yes,” me bless.


Acquiesce, caress.

 

Don’t go, let’s flow

into the night

of delight

and the dawning

after-glow.

 

No “no”!

 

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Bellweather of Climate Change

daphne birkmyer

 

‘Sweet Salamander’

whispers Dragon lovingly from her magenta cloud,

‘Slow your pulse and sleep a while longer

in the mercy of your hibernation underground,

For my time has come,

and as your damp skin is singed by the heat of my caress,

You will no longer breathe

And when you vanish?

Oh slender thief of my heart,

I shall be

so

lonely.’

 

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

My New Love

Ana Manwaring

Paris sweetly singes my tongue

fondly remembered

 as lush apricots

devoured in the heat of summer.

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

   One Red Rose      

Barbra Hana Austin

Tobe and I fell in love thirty years ago in Stockholm. Six months ago he found me on line. it was the week of my seventy-first birthday. That would mean he was sixty-one.

We spoke or emailed daily and soon, ever the romantic  he sent me a round trip ticket to his adopted  Argentina. What could I say?.

On the plane, a complimentary Vodka in hand, I re-created fragments of our long ago lovemaking. If a heart could glitter from the inside out, mine would be seen like the stars in the heavens.

We were single-minded in that a Niagara of water had passed under our separate bridges. Would we be so clear when we met? I was excited, happy and getting more romantic by the sip.

The plane landed at Ezeiza International, and there Tobe stood, tall and straight, by the exiting corridor, as noble as he had been in Stockholm with one red rose in his hand.

We stood, stared and flew into each others arms.  When his lips touched mine, a tiny nucleus of heat began to rise deep within my very belly button.

“Take my pulse” he whispered, “if I’m not dying, I want you now, right now and I don’t care if it makes the front page of La Nación”.

We were married three weeks later at the airport. I carried one red rose.

 

 

     HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY

3 Comments

Filed under Prompts, Writing workshop Prompt