the season of love
hippies said summer was the season,
but i know winter is the one for love.
meeting you during the fall, without reason,
and then knowing you for the catch.
it's safe to say we're a perfect match.
like the beatles, so happy together,
i say, you're the ying to my yang.
so in sync, we're birds of a feather.
kissing to songs about cape cod,
smiles and laughter, two peas in a pod.
meeting eachother, through people we both know,
it's almost bizarre, wistful for more memories,
we could have met so long ago.
it doesn't matter now, 'cause you are mine.
my sweet rarity, the perfect valentine.
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