Happy Valentine's Day! Today I wanted to share one of my favorite poems with you about love!
When I Was One-and-Twenty
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
“Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free.”
But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.
When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
“The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
’Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue.”
And I am two-and-twenty,
And oh, ’tis true, ’tis true.
This was in one of my mother's poetry books that she got as a gift MANY years before I was born. The spine is ripping, the pages are old and worn and the title is nearly indiscernible. I love it. I used to flip through the pages and this poem has a little faded, smudged penciled-in star. I asked my mom about it and she said it was one of her favorites, so she marked it. When I was little, I memorized this poem, but I was nothing more than a parrot reciting words that I had no understanding of. Now that I'm 21 I understand a bit more, but when I'm "two-and-twenty" perhaps it'll make even more sense to me. Do you guys have a favorite poem, or song, or book, video, movie, candy, etc that reminds you of love? What are some of your flirty-est memories?
In honor of all things flirty a bunch of amazing authors were genergous enough to share the love and donate things for a giveaway! I'm also going to be giving away a special swag pack that I'm still cooking up!
Now, enjoy this excerpt from Rachel Harris! It's from her book "Seven Day Fiancee."
She
bit her lip as he held out his hand and she placed hers in it. Warmth
enveloped her skin, stirring up the blood until she was sure her
pulse matched the upbeat tempo. “Just don’t step on my feet, city
boy.”
At
the edge of the dance floor, Angelle found them a spot a little ways
from the crowd. Cajun dancing could be as easy or as complicated as
you wanted to make it. As a beginner, one who had a heck of a lot of
pride, she figured she’d go light on Cane. Especially since people
were already eyeing them with curiosity.
“Okay,
so we’ll start with the open-handed position,” she told him.
“From here, we can do several easy moves you’ve probably seen
before. You’ll look like a pro in no time.”
He
chuckled as if he doubted it, but she ignored him. With two older
brothers, she’d seen enough macho behavior to last her a lifetime.
Cane was worried about failing—whether it was because he didn’t
want to look stupid in front of the town or her, she didn’t know.
But it didn’t matter, either, because what he failed to realize was
that Angie was a damn fine teacher.
“Now,
old-school dancing is a bit different, but with the Cajun swing and
Zydeco, you want rhythm. Your body should be fluid and bop to the
beat.” Elbows bent and close to her sides, she took his hands and
swung them along with the tempo. He raised an eyebrow, and she rolled
her eyes. “You’re a musician, so don’t even tell me you can’t
find the beat.”
Cane
chuckled and then swung his arms, flawlessly finding the rhythm. They
added the feet, pumping with a bounce step, and the amused lightness
on his face filled her with so much happiness she thought she’d
burst. For a time, Cajun dancing had defined her. The dance floor had
been the one place she let herself go, where she didn’t care who
her family was or what people expected of her. She lost herself in
the lively music and the fast-paced steps. And now, she was sharing
it with Cane.
This
was the icing on the cake of an already perfect day.
Once
the basic step was solid, Angelle quickly taught Cane key moves like
the Sweetheart, the Hip Turn, and the Turn-Under. And after several
minutes of practice, delightful moments filled with missteps,
laughter, and a whole lot of tingles, Angie declared him ready for
his dance floor debut.
“If
it makes you happy, Angel, I’ll do just about anything. I believe I
owe you a date from the auction.” Cane looked to the crowd of
colorfully dressed couples spinning, shuffling, and sliding along the
plywood. “But you have to know I’m gonna be a bull in a china
shop out there.”
“No,
you won’t.” While it was true they wouldn’t be winning any
dance awards tonight, after only a few songs, Cane was really doing
well. “And yes, it would
make
me happy.”
She
smiled brightly, feeling a strange surge of confidence. Cane’s gaze
glided over her face, a grin pulling at his mouth, and he pressed a
soft kiss on the tip of her nose. “Then lead on, tiny dancer.”
Hand
in hand, still smiling, they walked out onto the true dance floor.
Cane took her hands in his, and then, they began to dance.
As
they swirled around the floor, Angie felt like she was in a movie. A
movie that actually showed Cajun people right, instead of a bunch of
toothless twits like on Waterboy.
They weren’t perfect. Cane still stumbled and got confused. One
time, he even stepped on her toes. But it was in those mistakes that
Angelle lost a bit more of her heart. He was trying, trying for her,
and
he was there, for her.
The
sexy, intelligent, witty playboy before her was willing to make an
ass out of himself for the sake of the cause…and because it made
her happy. That was worth more than a bazillion blue ribbons and
championships.
