Happy Valentine's! To celebrate I'm posting 3 lovely Valentines poems from Ted Kooser, celebrating love in all its different manifestations.
The poems come from Kooser's delightful collection of love poems called 'Valentines', compiled from years of writing an annual love poem on Valentine's Day and posting it to female friends (which soon evolved into a practice that took in a wider email list of fans.) I can't think of a more lovely idea for Valentine's than to pen a poem for whoever you love, or better still, for the cause of love in general. As Kooser says of the day: 'It's a poet's holiday. It's not tied up with anything other than expressions of sentiment.'
*You can read about Ted Kooser's Valentines idea: here
*You can read about Ted Kooser's Valentines idea: here
In A Light Late-Winter Wind - Ted Kooser
In a light late-winter wind
the oak trees are scattering valentines
over the snow - dark red
like the deep-running, veinous blood
of the married, returning
again and again to the steady heart.
This leaf is yours, friend,
picked from the heart-shaped hoofprint
of a deer. She stood here
under the apple tree during the night,
kicking up sweetness, her great eyes
watching the sleeping house.
***
New Potato - Ted Kooser
This is just one of the leathery eggs
the scuffed-up, dirty turtle of the moon
buried early in spring, her eyes like stars
fixed on the future, and, inside its red skin,
whiteness, like all of the moons to come,
and marvelous, buttered with light.
***
If You Feel Sorry - Ted Kooser
If you feel sorry for yourself
this Valentine's Day, think of
the dozens of little paper poppies
left in the box when the last
of the candy is gone, how they
must feel, dried out and brown
in their sad old heart-shaped box,
without so much as a single finger
to scrabble around in their
crinkled petals, not even
one pimpled nose to root and snort
through their delicate pot pourri.
So before you make too much
of being neglected, I want you
to think how they feel.
the oak trees are scattering valentines
over the snow - dark red
like the deep-running, veinous blood
of the married, returning
again and again to the steady heart.
This leaf is yours, friend,
picked from the heart-shaped hoofprint
of a deer. She stood here
under the apple tree during the night,
kicking up sweetness, her great eyes
watching the sleeping house.
***
New Potato - Ted Kooser
This is just one of the leathery eggs
the scuffed-up, dirty turtle of the moon
buried early in spring, her eyes like stars
fixed on the future, and, inside its red skin,
whiteness, like all of the moons to come,
and marvelous, buttered with light.
***
If You Feel Sorry - Ted Kooser
If you feel sorry for yourself
this Valentine's Day, think of
the dozens of little paper poppies
left in the box when the last
of the candy is gone, how they
must feel, dried out and brown
in their sad old heart-shaped box,
without so much as a single finger
to scrabble around in their
crinkled petals, not even
one pimpled nose to root and snort
through their delicate pot pourri.
So before you make too much
of being neglected, I want you
to think how they feel.
A push-button or simply button is a simple switch mechanism to control some aspect of a machine or a process. Buttons are typically made out of hard material, usually plastic or metal. The surface is usually flat or shaped to accommodate the human finger or hand, so as to be easily depressed or pushed.Spacebar test
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