A shared assault on crosswords brings us here,
Sitting, watching, arguing, just conversing,
Of course, there's each day's quota of cheap beer -
Well, ling'ring at the bar, waiting, cursing.
Surrounded by a swarm of drunks and smoke,
Thinking, 'My God, there must be more to life.
Just who is that crude loudmouth who just spoke?
And why does that oaf eat peas with his knife?'
But then, one Thursday, squinting through the haze,
Tobacco-choked and fingering our glass,
A light breaks through, and we enraptured gaze:
A blaze of blonde, of beauty, grace and class.
So, lovely ladies, please accept this wine.
A little late, but be our Valentine.
I'd trade all of my tomorrows for a single yesterday
Kris Kristofferson
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