Valentines - as well as love - come in many forms....

Love Is an Heirloom 

August 16, 2006 


Love is an heirloom,

Long lived, long loved,

Handed down from mother to daughter,

Father to son,

Lover to beloved,

Its origins lost in time;

Its sheltering assurance so

Long familiar,

Though not taken for granted,

Is often forgotten,

Tucked away in a drawer,

Wrapped in faded tissue

And out of sight.

One day,

While one is looking for something else,

It is stumbled upon,

Clutched to the heart,

Smiled over

Or dampened by a tear.

Love is a parent’s strong arms

And sweetest face,

Smiling down on baby’s first grin,

First words,

First steps.

Love is a mother’s pang

Over the first day of school,

First puppy love,

First car,

First prom.

Love is a father’s dance with a daughter

On her wedding day

And his dance with her mother

Soon after,

Or watching a son make the winning home run…..

Or fail to.

Love is waiting for the phone to ring,

Listening for the click of the lock that says,

“I’m home.”

Love is arms

Holding a first grandchild

And then the next.

Love is a shiny toy

When one is sixteen

And blissfully unaware

Of life’s “complications.”

Love is mindless passion,

Unconditional devotion,

Unquestioning sacrifice,

Forbidden joy.

Love is a tie that binds,

For good or ill.

Love is a promise

That we vow will not be broken,

Yet sometimes is.

Love is hope to cling to

When all seems lost.

Love is friendship,

And a new friend is all discovery

And revelation.

What do we have in common?

Who do we know?

What would we like to do?

But, old friends are comfortable clothes,

A bit tired around the edges,

Silent witnesses to a shared history,

Secret anguishes, passions and desires,

They fit without strain;

They “forgive” our

Bumps and bulges.

They cannot ever be discarded,

No matter how worn.

Love is surprise,

Stumbled upon after long absence,

A forgotten treasure,

Wrapped in faded tissue,

Tucked away for safe keeping,

Suddenly no longer missing,

But found.

Surprise is the love that could not be,

Yet now is.


It was the shiny toy of youth,

Too quickly lost.

Now, after years and years,

Love is an heirloom.


Saint Patrick didn't eat this, but you can.......

Valentines Come in Many Forms.....