For S

You know me; you know me better than anyone. Love is important to me; love personally expressed and deeply felt, not empty conventions and social rituals. I admit I have in the past enjoyed the frippery associated with Valentine’s Day – or the festival of Juno, as I have long thought of it -; it flatters my ego, the cards and the gifts, though I was never inclined to take it seriously, or the saccharine sweetness in which the occasion is draped.

Today was different; you made it so special, as if the only people in the world who mattered were the two of us. I write I can’t thank you enough for your wonderful gift, though it seems so hackneyed, so stale. Still, it’s true: I can never thank you enough. This evening was sublime, everything about it: the food, the wine, the setting; you arranged it all perfectly, a perfect surprise.

Who knows what or future will bring, who knows how we will end, but I will always love you for this moment, this perfect moment, those perfect moments. This is why I’m making an open declaration, so all of the people who know us, all of our friends and past lovers, will understand.

All day long I have been working
Now I am tired.
I call: "Where are you?"
But there is only the oak tree rustling in the wind.
The house is very quiet,
The sun shines in on your books,
On your scissors and thimble just put down,
But you are not there.
Suddenly I am lonely:
Where are you?
I go about searching.

Then I see you,
Standing under a spire of pale blue larkspur,
With a basket of roses on your arm.
You are cool, like silver,
And you smile.
I think the Canterbury bells are playing little tunes,
You tell me that the peonies need spraying,
That the columbines have overrun all bounds,
That the pyrus japonica should be cut back and rounded.
You tell me these things.
But I look at you, heart of silver,
White heart-flame of polished silver,
Burning beneath the blue steeples of the larkspur,
And I long to kneel instantly at your feet,
While all about us peal the loud, sweet Te Deums of the Canterbury bells.