To all my students who are tearing their hair out in an attempt to write a Shakespearean "Valentine's Day" Sonnet:

Sorry guys. Sometimes we (your evil teachers) like to see you squirm. It's good for you. I wrote a sonnet some years ago in a poetry class. I was in your shoes, all uncomfortable with iambic pentameter, the sound of my own words, and the possibility that someone in my class might think I'm lame. Know this: I got your back. Not even people who want to be poets can do this (myself included). I'll be right there with you (as promised), with sonnet in hand and Valentine's candy to top it all off! Enjoy!

Sonnet
Charissa Saenz (2007)

Though I alone have made no man my own,
The age and grey of thirty-five has come.
My bed has room for nothing but a groan,
While sheets like wrinkled poetry turn numb.

No lace has touched my skin, no bells have swayed.
The veil still awaits my blushing swoon,
My hands with restless nudity, betrayed,
No path or aisle has led me to a groom.

Romantic notes that woo, I’ve not received,
And pure love’s kiss (if it exists) has fled.
All men’s dark souls, my faith, have not believed.
And so I choose a different love instead:

Truth resurrects His bloody, bruised embrace.
For death I’ll wait to touch my Lover’s face.