Oh, but the heart that has labored love
    in laced valentine’s of past.
Cutting out the ribbons of red,
    to give in hopes that love will last.
The confectionaries create their wares
     and boxed in all heart  sizes.
As anticipation builds in
     the expectant heart she prizes.
The day will wear and waiting passes.
     How will the promise come?
The time for many and then a few.
But, from the hopeful one?
© CMM  2012