Jesus: My Valentine Poem by Israel Ebiti

A saint although they say he was
who died all for love's sake;
yet not compared to the death on the cross,
for naught but death to take.
In season and out
he's always there.
His blood speaks out
his love so dear.
A broken stallion, an injured lamb
with battered and torn flesh.
A ritual to steal all from harm
to gift all with life's breath.
What precious gift is there to give
than a sacrifice of love,
with priceless gifts and grace to live
as gentle as a dove.
Valentine! valentine!
I searched the streets for mine.
Then there came so beautiful
Jesus, my valentine.