Valentine Hill

I went to a meeting of the El Paso Writers League. I very long established group of writers. I got their next letter of an upcoming meeting. It called for "Our February meeting falls right before Valentine's Day, so our writing assignment for the month is to write a "love story"" 

You know me this is what I sent back:

How strange a gathering. A Valentine's inspired submission? Caesar!, I bid you let me submit! 

I have paid my 25 drachma, But I am but a stranger to your lands. Caesar!, I call to you from outside your gates! I do not know your methods, protocols, nor ceremonies.

Caesar!, I only ask that you open the doors to your temple and accept this offering.

Lol silly an't I

Valentine Hill

Looking down from my grassy hill, into the bay. I watch as the last of the ships of my people sail for safety.

No, I'm not their leader. I'm not even their greatest warrior. l'm just the one who stayed to buy time till dawn for my people.

Were there any of my kind left one would write about how I stood against the Hoard, me and my love. But there are none left. Just me and my beloved.

It is good to be here at the end. 

Her forever at my side. She is slender and sharp. Handed down from Grandfather, to Father, to me. But I have run out of hands and so she's here with me.

The Hoard will arrive soon, but until then I rest and partake of the beautiful twilight. The lights of the gods shine upon me as I lean against her. From before I could hold her, she has always been a comfort to me.

Leaning against her, I eye the nick that she took saving my life one day on the glen. From that adventure she adorns the leather wrapping at her hilt. How many times have I polished her? How many times have I labored over her sharpening? She has never complained. She has never failed. What a fitting statement here, now, for the both of us.

No lover has ever stood as strong. No confidant has ever cut as quick. I see the Hoard coming. It won't be long now. I can all but see her smile in steel....

First light of dawn breaks the horizon.

She rests across my breast. She is bathed in the life of many and finally mine. But she did not fail, and we are together. Now and forever. How strange that the Hoard will call this red day Valentine. And as the light grows. It dims....

Funny how the metaphor is written. If the pen is mightier than the sword but yet it's the sword that takes the stage... But my people have made it to safety and my pen has run red with its ink. On a page called a Hill

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