This Valentines' Day
I got a sweet love letter
From my dear husband.
It made me laugh, and
I remembered happy times
Like last night's dinner.
"What is a birthright?
Why did Esau give his up
for a chicken dish?
"Jacob must have been
one hell of a cook; did he
make teriyaki?"
Many giggles, snorts,
hushed up by my napkin, as
Andrew sat, musing.
"Was teriyaki
worth giving up his birthright?
Jacob was a fink."
"Maybe they'd now be
'Esavites', not 'Jacobites',"
I said, chuckling.
"But a whole birthright!"
My husband was indignant.
"For teriyaki!"
"It's not even that
delicious," said I, giggling.
"I don't care for it."
Later he bought me
red roses, because there were
no more peach-hued ones.
He says that roses
stay the same price all the time.
Despite what they say.
"Roses in August
cost the same as those in March.
Well, the ones you like."
It doesn't matter.
They still smell as sweet, don't they?
Shakespeare did say so.
I love my husband.
I love to write haiku, for
him and for me too.
