Valentine’s Day

The Flowers of the Garage Forecourt

Budding lovers beware
of the Flowers of the Garage Forecourt;
they are not for courting.

Love will not blossom
with the Flowers of the Garage Forecourt,
these blundering bouquets

of cellophaned sadness:
the slip-road roses and tarmacked tulips,
petrol pump peonies

and crushed-dream chrysanthemums.
All those dahlias of desperation.
The I-forgot-you forget-me-nots.

Please know this, would-be customers
of the Flowers of the Garage Forecourt:
romance wilts with a lack of forethought.

Valentine’s Day is Over

They’re taking down love in the supermarkets.
It was best before by February 15th anyhow
and love is something that can’t be left on the shelf.

They need the space for other public displays
of confection, for the thanking of the best mum
in the world ever, and the laying out of chocolate eggs.

Romance may have had it’s day but there’s always
something to celebrate; Washington’s birthday,
some saint, All Saints’, All Souls’, April Fool’s, armistices,

rare diseases, women, men, children, animals,
pirates, poverty, pancakes, independence, not to mention
Diwali, Christmas, Rosh Hashanah, Ramadan.

It’s a wonder we find time for love at all.
This poem has been especially commissioned for
International Poetry About The End of Valentine’s Day Day.