This post is for the Monday Mural and is also the Valentine that Michelle wants us all to write. I’m afraid I’ve adopted a persona rather than writing one as myself. It is extremely raw as I wrote it straight onto my computer.
Softly, my love . . . We met with a kiss at the Village Flower Show.
My best friend dared me to go up to you
and introduce myself. You were overdressed
for such a provincial occasion whereas I wore
my usual blue denim overalls which needed washing
and smelt of horses. The wind was blowing
my hair over my eyes and into my mouth.
I felt self-conscious because I am a skinny bird who
doesn’t wear make-up, whereas you are very much the
sophisticate. I heard you say how much you liked my
roses, which you awarded First Prize. I only
meant to tell you that I was the person who
had grown the roses but when I got close,
I was so overcome by your fiery aroma
that I could not control myself. I know that
I embarrassed you. I want to make amends. So,
Softly, my love . . . We met with a kiss and I so want to meet you again . . .
My best friend and my brother Nigel helped me
to take the photo. I borrowed the shiny red tights
from my sister (she uses them for Yoga)
– I wanted red to match the tulips.
You can see me holding them in the photo
– I wanted you to see that the roses weren’t a one off
and that I really do have green fingers.
The scarf belongs to my mother. I was worried that the tulips
would be thirsty whilst the photo was being taken so
I asked Nigel to water them. As you will see
I spilled some soil when I took them out of their pot.
Softly, my love . . . We met with a kiss and I want you to be my Valentine.