Gift

When I first saw the gift in front of me, I was excited by its curling bow, Its bright blue paper beaming beautif'lly. And after some time, I unwrapped it. "O!" I said, "Why it's a book of poetry." Its cover intrigued. I read a po- em about a pirate of some fancy, Who had no treasures of gold to bestow Upon his fair maiden. His destiny; The poet's rambling, didn't impress me, so I set the book aside. A sad trophy Collecting dust. A minor memento. And then something happen'd, almost divine, One day that book said, "Be My Valentine!"