February 14 197 AD, the Very First Valentine

In the Basilica of Santa Maria in Cosmedin,
A weathered skull canonized, wreathed with a crown of fresh cut flowers,
Of Terni lay the relic of the venerated Valentin,
Beneath an almond tree, by his grave, Julia would pass the hours,
She would unfold and read the little heart shaped scrap of parchment,
A testament of love she kept in her bodice next to her breast,
The night before his execution, he penned heart felt sentiment,
That was hand delivered by a sympathetic Asterius,
Having been cured of her loss of sight Julia could read the note,
And for this she was ever indebted, falling deeply in love
Her heart would swell, upon each syllable she would silently dote,
While upon a branch, among the pink blossoms there perched a white dove,
She would read and reread, read again and reread each line divine,
Until she arrived at those final words…”Always, Your Valentine”
(From When Gods Fade to Myth by T J Therien)
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The Hitchhiker

The hitchhiker sticks out a thumb
The dust of the road inhaled and tasted
Waiting for the next ride to come
Braised by the sun, in own juices basted
An insignificant sum,
A mosaic of misery stuck and pasted
A heart grown cold and numb
A lifetime spent whiled and wasted
T J Therien