So Valentines Day — It’s here. I was going to write something lovey and gushy and sweet, but before I did, I asked my son what words he would put down instead . . . words aren’t really his thing (even though they are and he just doesn’t realize it), I could see the little wheels begin to spin and he said he’d get back to me.
He and the adorably nerdy geekdom that are his circle of friends, had a text party that night.
While he waited for his friends to get their romantical ideas to him, we sat down and wrote our own, sort of. We did string together the words, but most had already been said, you might recognize their sources. It’s short and sweet.
I would follow you beyond the blackest gates,
into unseen dangers if you’d only wear my ring.
I would wait for 2000 years just to see your face, my precious.
If we were ever torn apart
I would face the depths of the unknown,
for my hearts; they beat only for you,
can’t you hear the drumming?
I would pull time itself apart for you.
When we met I wondered
if I’d wandered into a dream,
and when I said I love you,
you simply said I know.
it’s together or not at all.
If you asked me how long I was going to stay,
I would say forever,
because we’re all just stories in the end.
Ask of me anything,
I will grant it to you . . .
as you wish.
So back to my sons geek squad of *romantics for a day*, I provided the beginning and what follows makes my heart soar because a group of teenagers and twenty-somethings took time out on a Friday night to come up with these cheesy, surprisingly sweet, and innocent lines of . . . I guess we’ll call it love.
Romeo and Juliette had a love so tragic,
but James and Lilly Potter —
their love was truly magic.
It lives on and on forever,
that much can be said,
you can see it on their faces
in The Mirror of Erised.
My heart screams for you like a mandrake,
like a mermaid in the black lake,
when I cannot be with you.
My heart soars like a quaffel
every time you eat a waffle.
Dragons are red,
Nevilles face is blue,
attracts me to you.
Flue powder is green,
the portkeys a shoe,
I feel my best
when I’m traveling with you.
You are a golden snitch
and I’m a humble seeker,
I know that when I catch you,
you will be a keeper.
So I’ve not written a sonnet or an ode or an epic ballad of love this year, I just had some fun with my son and his adorably fantastic friends — the laughter and the love filling the room as we played was a gift, and these silly words will always be my portkey to take me right back to it, that makes them far more epic than ten thousand words penned to a page.
Crystal R. Cook