Valentine’s day is this week, and it is a holiday that I’m normally horrible at. I normally forget to do anything and then make up for it by cooking dinner. However, when you cook dinner all the time it’s not really that special.

Not so this year; the young son had to buy a present for his girlfriend for Valentine’s Day. This marks the 5th or 6th thing that he’s bought her; somehow it seems like every other week is some holiday that he has to celebrate by buying something. This time I decided to buy a little heart for my wife. Of course, we had to get cards. Then the boy insisted that I wait until Tuesday before giving it to her. It’s strange when your 15 year old is giving you advice on romance.

In the past - the long distant past - I remember writing some really bad poetry for my wife. Fortunately, I believe that was all lost or burned by court order. It’s so much smoother when I use someone else’s words.

Today I’m going with a poem that has always reminded me of my wife; the imagery of nighttime matches up nicely with everything I love about her.

IV. “Why do I love the silence of the moon”

Why do I love the silence of the moon, The paradisal distance of the dawn, The depth of eve mysteriously withdrawn, Better than all the roses of late June, The garden’s breath, the orchard’s golden boon, The burning brightness of the new-mown lawn, The mossy forest-floor with beech-mast strawn, And green trees waving in the depth of noon. Night hath her dreams and the lone heart its tears; Silence and longing weep themselves to rest Each on the other’s mild and maiden breast; The seeking spirit sighs, the dim star hears; Distance and high devotion suit the best, And deep as thy deep eyes the dawn appears.

– John Barlas (pseud. Evelyn Douglas)