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The Valentine Opossum Poem

I had occasionally heard about the Valentine Opossum.
No one ever seemed to know much about her though.
She sneaks into houses the night before Valentine's Day.
Supposedly, she brings Valentine gifts to the ladies, young and ...
Ladies are always young, you know, so they are young and ...
The Valentine Opossum helps out the fellows who have forgotten.
We fellows sometimes forget all about Valentine's Day, it seems.

Mere folk tale is the Valentine Opossum, imagined I.
I just did not believe there could be such as she.
But then, I began to think that maybe this year I would find out.

We have an almost three year old kitty: her name is Oriana.
She was born on April 23, the date Shakespeare and Cervantes died.
Cats are always awake, you know, even when they are asleep.
Oriana sleeps in our house most nights.
She will see if there is a Valentine Opossum, thought I.
The Valentine Opossum will not escape her sight.

Dark grey Oriana is invisible in the dark.
She can see very well at night, it seems.
The Valentine Opossum will not see her.
Oriana will make a big fuss if the Valentine Opossum comes inside.
There may be a tussle: there may be a fight.
We will find out for once and for all.
The whole world will then know.
No longer will there be doubt and uncertainty.
The Valentine Opossum will be exposed either way, I was certain.

The next morning there were Valentine gifts for the ladies.
There had been no fuss the night before.
There was not a tussle: there was not a fight.
Nonchalant Oriana had a very knowing look in her eyes.
To me the slight grin on her face gave it all away.
The Valentine Opossum, for sure, had come to our house.

But, Oriana was not telling, you see.
I had forgotten that Oriana, too, is a lady.
And ladies do have their secrets, you know.
Copyright (c) 2005 by D La Pierre Ballard
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