Say what you will about those Aggies, . . . they are a creative bunch! I dredged this up from my Valentine’s Day file. Try this one out on your sweetheart this Valentine’s Day!

A ROMANTIC AGGIE VALENTINE’S DAY POEM

T. GOMER JONES, Ph.D.

Regents Distinguished Professor of Poetry and Poultry Science

Texas A & M University

College Station, Texas

 

Collards is green, my dog’s name is Blue,

And I am so lucky to have a sweet thang like you.

 

Yore hair is like corn silk aflapping in the breeze,

Softer than Blue’s, and without all them fleas.

 

Yore move like the bass, which excite me in May.

Yore ain’t got no scales but I luv you anyway.

 

Yore as satisfy’n as okry jist afry’n in the pan.

Yore is as fragrant as “snuff” right out of the can.

 

Yore have som’a yore teeth, for which I’m proud;

I hole my head high when we’re in a crowd.

 

On special occasions, when yore shave under yore arms,

Well, I’m in hawg heaven, and awed by yore charms.

 

Still them fellers at work, they all want to know,

What I did to deserve such a purdy, young doe.

 

Like a good roll of duct tape yore there fer yore man,

To patch up life’s troubles and fix what yore can.

 

Yore as cute as a June bug abuzzin’ overhead.

Yore ain’t mean like those far ants I found in my bed.

 

Cut from the best cloth like a plaid flannel shirt,

Yore spark up my life more than a fresh load of dirt.

 

When yore hold me real tight like a padded gun rack,

My life is complete; Ain’t nuttin’ I lack.

 

Yore complexion is perfection, like the best vinyl sidin’.

Despite all the years, yore age, it keeps hiden’.

 

Me ‘n’ you’s like a Moon Pie with a RC cold drank,

We go together like a skunk goes with stank.

 

Some men, they buy chocolate for Valentine’s Day;

They git it at Wal-Mart, it’s romantic that way.

 

Some men git roses on that special day

From the cooler at Kroger. “That’s impressive,” I say.

 

Some men buy fine diamonds from a flea market booth.

“Diamonds are forever,” they explain, suave and couth.

 

But for this man, honey, these won’t do.

Cause yore too special, you sweet thang you.

 

I got you a gift, without taste or oder,

More useful than diamonds . . . IT’S A NEW TROLLIN’ MOTOR!!

 

 

GENIUS, PURE GENIUS!!