At the grocery store yesterday afternoon, there were several of us, looking at the cards. We got to chatting, the way strangers do, and bemoaning the fact that we had put off getting cards for our significant others until the last minute. Putting back yet another really bad card, I muttered "I got a poem." The woman next to me asked "Really?" "Yeah," I nodded. "How is one of these supposed to compete with a poem????" She shook her head. "You really can't." We laughed. I'm please to say I managed to do all right anyway. But let it be a lesson to you ~ you really can't compete with a poem.
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| My Flowers |
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| Game hen, asparagus and couscous |
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| Casablanca in the background :) |
Those are romantic, mushy, here's looking at you kid, Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
2 comments:
Oh, wowza! He's so dashing.... the crimson kerchief is the kicker!
I can relate to your post: My brother wrote me a poem for my birthday -- my little brother, who never picks up a book and who prefers the allure of mathematics, actually penned an excellent poem about growing up. I assumed he'd taken it from the internet, until it started talking about moments in our childhood and got all personal. I was sucker-punched with love.
And the man is just sexy without even trying. That's what always amazes me about him.
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