Who is my Valentine?
Is he you, you, or you?
I do love a red coat,
My favorite hue.
When I make up my mind
Then my love will be true.
I read aloud and pour out tea,
And yet you seldom notice me.
I sing and play as well as the others;
My nerves are nothing like my mother’s!
A parsonage is where I’d shine,
Mr. Collins, be my Valentine!
You officers are such good friends
But you haven’t any money.
I dream of someone rich and fine
Who’ll dare to call me “Honey.”
The finest, dearest, kindest man
(in addition to dear Father)
Has come my way; is this God’s plan?
My patient heart’s a-flutter!
Violets are blue, like the penstemon.
I asked for True Love and was given a Lemon.
Yes, you are richer than Tom, John, or Harry.
But you’re still the last man
I ever would marry!