We Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

I have not asked in many years
though all my friends and learned peers
pick willy-nilly so it seems
a Valentine straight from their dreams.
Of course, good etiquette demands
that those who've claimed another's hands
be on the list for chocolates
and maybe for some other bits
a Beaujolais, Valpolicella
the onus is on the good fella
and shops stay open to fulfill
big wishes and to stuff the till.
It seems that one declares his pick
it's just like putting one's small tick
to activate computerware
and BINGO, says the card 'I Care',
it has become a bland routine
but is essential in the scene.
I will, this year take an old feather,
of goose, though still uncertain whether
the one whose LOVE is my great hope
will want me writing, I'm a dope
and often feel a trifle timid
instead of going for the limit.
Well, I shall write from my own heart
some words will lift me, others smart,
and, in the end she'll understand
that she can have my sweaty hand
and if she wants, the rest of me
which would confirm the promise WE.