Some find love is like the violet's scent
Which, with it's fragrant, rich, delight
Overcomes and kills the nose's sense
As quick as darkness robs our eyes of sight.
I, while searching for a constant strength
In one who would stay married to my hopes,
Worry that my fickle fancy may at length
Chafe against love's most welcomed ropes.
This brings as much pain, I have to say,
To new love starting as does facing that
Past love with passing time did fade away
And leave my hopes divorced from fact.
It matters not with which blame might lay
My fear is pain for both if either lacks.
So I here fret amongst these rhyming lines
In both dread and hope for Valentines.
This is from 1993, I wrote "Violets" in 1975 and "Roses" in it's original form in 1984; in 2005 I rewrote it in sonnet form. I have a love of the sonnet form, although I don't always stick to 14 lines, as in "Valentines Day." There is precedent for this 16 line form although you have to dig deep in the literature to find it. Whatever the form, I've always been rather happy about this one!