My Badger Valentine

My dearest,

The war keeps us busy, but we have found time to write, to tell you of our latest adventure–with the sincere hope that this letter is not censored beyond all recognition by the time it reaches you. Maybe they no longer engage in such folly, or perhaps this missive shall pass through the hands of a kind soul, and the truth will be allowed to flourish in this grim time. Just a seed. A seed which you now hold.

Soon, there shall be another seed. Or wait–a sprout? Is that what happens? Look, let us be honest in this trying time: we are a badger, we are not a gardener, for all that we love digging our claws into the moist dirt. We are not a poet, though we struggle mightily to be such, because to dream the impossible dream, etc. &., yadda yadda.

Not another seed–a book. Yes, that is the thing we mean to say. You perhaps have heard of it–Shimmer: The Best Of. It holds a lot of poems disguised as stories. It contains lessons and loves and hearts and also kisses–it is a kissing book, so please tell the youths not to come near it at all, though some day they might not mind so much.

IN ANY CASE, a book. A book shall soon arrive, dearest. And we would like to gift you with this book, we would. Should the war cease and allow us to send a package, wrapped in brown paper so as not to attract predators (bookworms, you know), we would like to do this thing. But you must do one thing for us. Yes. Just one–it’s a small thing, a trifle, really.

It’s February, you see, and while we crave spring in the way we also crave the sweet cow jerky we’re making in the northmost field, February is cold and frozen in most places, and there is but one thing that would thaw our hearts. A Valentine from you. Whatever shape it shall take–an poem, an drabble, a sketch of our most beloved and bewhiskered face–however you might interpret Valentine, we want it.

You do not have to dare the mail system, no. This missive of ours is clever. You can simply reply beneath it! Technology! They say it will change the world. (We think you will change the world, but that’s for another letter.)

So, leave us a note below, and rest assured that we shall receive it through all the improper channels. We shall chew upon your Valentine, and whichever one we find most tasty, we shall reward with The Book. (It’s coming, see. SOON and SOONER NOW.) As we understand it, this communication portal shall close within one week (February 21, they say), because of planetary orbits, and circles, and well, the blasted war that keeps us from you. (The sky is very purple sometimes, dearest. Not unlike the bruise you left upon our heart.)

A Valentine, please and thank you. Just below. Yes, there. Right there. We shall holler from the rooftops of this city when we find the right one. Perhaps it is in your pocket even now.

Home soon and sooner now,

A Badger

11 thoughts on “My Badger Valentine”

  1. Roses are red
    violets are blue
    badgers are lovely
    give them love
    and respect or
    they will chew
    your face for
    breakfast nibble
    the nose slurpy
    kiss and chomp
    the lips lovely
    badger, bloody

  2. My darling – in the depths of time, my desire for this book, like my passion for this magazine, languishes, unrequited. Please, I beg you, release me from my misery.

  3. This is just to say
    I have eaten
    the words
    that were in
    the cavern
    of your heart
    where the cold winds
    echo and blow

    and which
    you were probably
    for someone special

    Forgive me
    they were delicious
    so sweet
    and so tender
    with unspoken

  4. Love seeketh just this book to please
    To rejoice in stories it will share
    With them help another find their ease
    And together guard against despair.

    So sang a little cloud of clay
    Trodden by the cattle’s feet
    But a pebble of the brook
    Warbled our these meters meet

    Love taketh this book for its own
    To hide it up upon the shelf
    Never let it be taken down
    But guard it’s treasures for its self

  5. Dearest badgers
    You have burrowed your way into my heart, so that its ventricles and atriums are now an elaborate warren devoted to our love
    I think of you often: “Badger, badger, badger, badger – mushroom, mushroom” chimes inside my head, and I smile wistfully imagining you cavorting in the grass
    Today and always I am cherishing you, your clawed paws nestled in my palm, and send you all my love in a cloud-shaped balloon

  6. Badger,

    My emotions betray the eloquence you deserve. My heart has been sickly without you, and I crave inspiration to write more. I hope to see this book, that it may carry your sweet musk across the thawing fields. Badger…be safe.

  7. Badger, badged, you label and hide the poetry in motion. You return to the same word again in gloriously differing words, hailing and celebrating dancer and dance, singer and song. Valen-while away together the time of beloving words.

  8. Ah, Badger,
    Eloquence I have none. My words are shy and broken things, hard-edged when I mean to be soothing, timid when I mean to be forthright. Yet to hold the best of you, to embrace the thoughts and missives you have chosen with care, filling me with envy and longing and a shred of despair. Never will I be so good.

    Yet I must try. Oh my badger. My dusty words are all I have. I know you deserve better. Here, take these from my shaky fingers. I long for the creations of your selectivity, your wisdom, your red pen. Elucidate me.

  9. you are the badger to my coyote.
    let us go hunt cooperatively
    and perhaps
    foil the evil plans
    of the groundhog
    that stole the spring.

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