چهارشنبه 30 بهمن1387
Valentine Roses
Red roses were her favorites, her name was also Rose.
And every year her husband sent them, tied with pretty bows.
The year he died, the roses were delivered to her door.
The card said, "Be my Valentine," like all the years before.
Each year he sent her roses, and the note would always say,
"I love you even more this year, than last year on this day."
"My love for you will always grow, with every passing year."
She knew this was the last time that the roses would appear.
She thought, he ordered roses in advance before this day.
Her loving husband did not know, that he would pass away.
He always liked to do things early, way before the time.
Then, if he got too busy, everything would work out fine.
She trimmed the stems, and placed them in a very special vase.
Then, sat the vase beside the portrait of his smiling face.
She would sit for hours, in her husband's favorite chair.
While staring at his picture, and the roses sitting there.
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یکشنبه 13 بهمن1387
ABOUT IDEALS
"So the Prince set Cinderella upon his horse and took her away to his fairy kingdom. And when they arrived he put a crown of gold upon her head, and led her to a silver throne. And so they were married and lived happily ever after!"
The child of seven shut the green and gold book softly, almost reverently, and as the gilt-edged pages fell silently together she saw pictures before her half-shut eyes: the sweet, demure little maiden in the peasant's hut, the radiant lady in the ball-room, and the gracious princess clad in ermine and jewels. And the child sighed.
"My!" she whispered to herself, "if I were only the princess." And she began to dream again, only this time she herself was the heroine.
"Let me see," she murmured--for she had a little habit of thinking aloud--"I'll have black, black curls; and violet eyes; and an alabaster brow." (This description, of course, did not tally with the chubby baby face and straight little braids and round eyes which she really possessed.) "And the prince will be tall and dark, with a curly moustache and big brown eyes, and peaches-and-cream looking cheeks. And when we get married we will sit on lovely thrones with cushions, and look at each other, and eat ice cream all day long. Won't it be lovely!"
The child put the book carefully back on the shelf and went to the nearest mirror. Back at her looked the solemn eyes; unwinking, grave. And then she turned away and went to play with her dolls. For deep-rooted in her heart was the fearful thought that never, never would she look like a princess. And then, how could the prince--the tall, dark, gallant prince, who waited somewhere for her to grow up--marry her?
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