Here's a little poem I wrote this morning after looking at my dear old valentines.
You can shop for hours on end, and spend a lot of money,
For the perfect card you want to send, your special sugar, honey,
But this old mama's heart is full, for packed among her treasure,
Are the dear, old tattered greeting cards, that are valued beyond measure.
I recall the dimpled hand that held the pencil tight,
When childish print filled the page, as my child learned to write.
I remember the frown, on his sweet brow as he thought of what to say,
To express his little heart to me on this special Valentine's Day.
Of all the lovely cards I've saved, the ones I cherish most,
Are prettied up with Crayon flowers, and fingerprints of jelly toast.
MY SPECIAL VALENTINE'S
From Cyndi, 1966, age almost 7
Verse she made up says:
"As ture the vine grows round the stump
you our my suger lump to bumb.
From Michael 1968 age 7