A poem by Beverly Stock.
© Evgenyi Gromov | Dreamstime.com
My heart begins a fastening pace,
When I see your form and handsome face.
It is your voice’s low melody,
That sounds like Cupid’s sorcery.
It is your eyes bring me home,
That makes me write this simple poem.
Perhaps this year you’ll say, “Be mine.”
And I then will be your Valentine.
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