Valentine's Day Poem by Martin Ward

Valentine's Day by Martin Ward

So who said
that romance
is dead?
When in place
of pricey
chocolates,
I bring you
pork
scratchings
home
from
the pub
instead.

No need
for expensive
Valentine's cards,
when you
get a text
from your
very own bard.

I'm sure
you appreciate
this avoidance
of being
profligate,
that we
can enjoy
other things,
like SKY Sports,
and beery
nights
with the boys.

My thoughtfulness
knows no bounds:
what about
the 'special'
underwear
I found?

Who could ask for more?

Why is my suitcase next to the door?