A Valentine's poem for the Minnesota man

Valentine hearts
If candy alone won't suffice, perhaps Peter Smith's Minnesota Valentine's Day poem will help you express your love.
MPR Photo/Greta Cunningham

I think it was Eric Segal who said, "Love means never having to say you're sorry."

It's February in Minnesota, and with Valentine's Day hurtling toward us, tens of thousands of Minnesota men are getting ready to come up short on romance, fall to their knees and whimper, "I'm sorry," over and over again.

We Minnesota guys just aren't good at expressing our love. The family dog will postulate Einstein's Theory of Relativity before we get Valentine's Day right.

So here -- to the women of Minnesota -- is a less-than-romantic love poem from your significant others.

I'm sure I speak for every man in the state when I say from the bottom of my heart, "I'm sorry."

A Minnesota Valentine

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How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
In Minnesota this time of year, practicality pays.

I love thee for thy calories converted to heat,
In the night, bun to bun, under the sheets.
Never mind lingerie. Let passion take a hiatus.
Give me two parts of your flannel to one of my flatus.

For your car starting skills, so adroit and so able,
As you raise up my hood and attach your jumper cables,
Then stand on a snowbank made by some passing plow,
And tell me to "Crank it." I'm so hot for you now.

For your blower, your shovel, your roof rake, your salt,
For your scarf, hat and chopper snow removal gestalt.
Love may or may not work in mysterious ways,
But in Minnesota this time of year, practicality pays.

I love thee for thy hotdish -- mushroom soup or tomato.
Hamburger. Tuna fish. How you wrangle potatoes.
I love knowing the food on our table tonight's
bound for my waistline tomorrow. It just feels right.

For being considerate. For the love you devote.
For letting me run the TV remote.

For your intuition... Your powers of deduction.
En route to your mother's, all the driving instruction.
How you fill in my blanks and complete every thought.
I don't finish thinking as fast as I ought.

There are Romeos for Juliets and Brad Pitts for Jolies.
In Minnesota, there's pretty much just "You's" and "Me's."
And I speak for all Minnesota men when I say,
I love you. I'm sorry. Happy Valentines Day.