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Valentine's Day Poems - Cornish Verse.
41 Answers
Heard in the local tonight, a Cornish Valentine's:
"Roses are Red,
Violets are Blue
The flowers are so expensive
Stolen daffodils for you"
Let's see the verse, folks. I am surprised that the romantic wing of AB is so lacking, no poetry threads today, that I have seen.
"Roses are Red,
Violets are Blue
The flowers are so expensive
Stolen daffodils for you"
Let's see the verse, folks. I am surprised that the romantic wing of AB is so lacking, no poetry threads today, that I have seen.
Answers
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Since my Valentine got a computer
My love life has taken a hit.
Nothing I say is important
Unless it’s a byte or a bit.
Before she got her new laptop,
Everything was just fine;
Now she says we can’t talk
Unless we both go online.
"But honey," I said, "I’m attached to you;
Love is what I feel."
"That keyword isn’t relevant,"
She said, with eyes of steel.
She clicked the keyboard furiously;
The screen was all she could see,
And then to my horror and shame,
She started describing me:
"Your motherboard needs upgrading;
Your OS needs help, too.
And you definitely need a big heatsink
To cool your CPU."
"Don’t flame me, my sweet," I pleaded.
"Not on Valentine’s Day."
"Fix the bugs, and I’ll see," she said,
While looking at me with dismay.
"What ever you want, my darling;
Whatever you need; you call it.
I’ll upload or download anything,
And then I’ll go install it."
(Her hostile CD keeps replaying,
And though I don’t want to fight her,
Is this what I want for a Valentine?
I’ve been burned; can I rewrite her?)
"Are you all hard drive now," I asked
"Is there no software in you?
Don’t you remember the good times?
Let our memories see us through."
"LOL," she said to me, chuckling.
"You’re nothing but adware.
"I’ve got four gigs of memory;
I’ve got no problem there."
"Please, honey, we can save it," I said.
"Our love means more than that."
"That’s not in my cache; we’re going to crash,"
She said, as she turned me down flat.
(This woman has really changed;
Do I really want to chase her?
More and more I’m thinking
It might be nice to erase her.)
"Aw, honey, don’t talk like that," I said.
"Can’t we just plug and play?
I hereby accept default,
And I’m yours, my love, come what may.
My goal is to make you happy;
I want to be your portal,
But your sudden, distant coldness
Would test the strongest mortal.
If we need a brand new interface,
So we can FTP,
I’m your go along, get along guy,
And I want you to stay with me."
"If you want to get into my favorites," she said,
And you want to get past my encryption,
If you want to get through my firewall,
Here is my only prescription."
"First, put up your own Web site,
And e-mail me when it’s done.
I’ll check your page rank with Google,
And tell you if you’re the one."
My life has become a real trial,
Since my Valentine got a computer.
If I want her to care about me again,
I guess I’ll have to reboot her.
My love life has taken a hit.
Nothing I say is important
Unless it’s a byte or a bit.
Before she got her new laptop,
Everything was just fine;
Now she says we can’t talk
Unless we both go online.
"But honey," I said, "I’m attached to you;
Love is what I feel."
"That keyword isn’t relevant,"
She said, with eyes of steel.
She clicked the keyboard furiously;
The screen was all she could see,
And then to my horror and shame,
She started describing me:
"Your motherboard needs upgrading;
Your OS needs help, too.
And you definitely need a big heatsink
To cool your CPU."
"Don’t flame me, my sweet," I pleaded.
"Not on Valentine’s Day."
"Fix the bugs, and I’ll see," she said,
While looking at me with dismay.
"What ever you want, my darling;
Whatever you need; you call it.
I’ll upload or download anything,
And then I’ll go install it."
(Her hostile CD keeps replaying,
And though I don’t want to fight her,
Is this what I want for a Valentine?
I’ve been burned; can I rewrite her?)
"Are you all hard drive now," I asked
"Is there no software in you?
Don’t you remember the good times?
Let our memories see us through."
"LOL," she said to me, chuckling.
"You’re nothing but adware.
"I’ve got four gigs of memory;
I’ve got no problem there."
"Please, honey, we can save it," I said.
"Our love means more than that."
"That’s not in my cache; we’re going to crash,"
She said, as she turned me down flat.
(This woman has really changed;
Do I really want to chase her?
More and more I’m thinking
It might be nice to erase her.)
"Aw, honey, don’t talk like that," I said.
"Can’t we just plug and play?
I hereby accept default,
And I’m yours, my love, come what may.
My goal is to make you happy;
I want to be your portal,
But your sudden, distant coldness
Would test the strongest mortal.
If we need a brand new interface,
So we can FTP,
I’m your go along, get along guy,
And I want you to stay with me."
"If you want to get into my favorites," she said,
And you want to get past my encryption,
If you want to get through my firewall,
Here is my only prescription."
"First, put up your own Web site,
And e-mail me when it’s done.
I’ll check your page rank with Google,
And tell you if you’re the one."
My life has become a real trial,
Since my Valentine got a computer.
If I want her to care about me again,
I guess I’ll have to reboot her.
Let's have some proper romantic Valentine's Day poetry ...
Shakespeare's Sonnet 29
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Shakespeare's Sonnet 29
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
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