A Thousand Poems

A young man looks for the perfect gift for a girl he loves and finds that the simplest gift is best.

A Thousand Poems

Pierre did not know how we was going to win her heart but he would win it. She would love him.

To see her was to fall in love with her. To hear her was to hear music. To feel her was to feel silk. Her beauty inspired a thousand poems within me. Some of which I tried to pen, but compared to her, it was gibberish.

Her name was Elena, and although she was rich, she had a humble heart- not allowing her parents’ servants to do much for her- she washed her own clothes, cleaned her own room, and many more things. She enjoyed the simple things, I saw- just being with friends and laughing. She loved nature. She would write poems about the river close to her home-she was my river. She wrote a thousand poems about that river, and I wrote a thousand poems about her.

Elena would celebrate her 17th birthday in a few days. What a celebration her parents planned for her; music, plenty of food, and all of her friends, myself included. And her gift? A car. Not to mention all the gifts from all her admirers. That’s what a beautiful face got her- a following of young men that would do and buy anything to have her heart. She won me over with her heart. She was such a simple and kind person. She shared everything she had- a drink, a cookie, a laugh. I loved her with all my heart.

Pierre thought and thought what he could give her for her birthday; he scribbled ideas on paper to get a clearer vision of what would make her the happiest. He didn’t have much money and knew that he could not compete with the gifts from the other young men.

I had one more day to get her a gift. It had to be perfect- no less would do. I didn’t even bother counting my money as I knew I could not by something suitable for her. What good would a cheap gift do her?

As I walked through town looking at all the beautiful dresses that I wished I could buy for her, I saw a man selling ice cream. “That’s the kind of thing she would appreciate,” I said to myself. I sat on a bench and watched the people; some were enjoying their ice cream, others walking, and still others sitting and talking with friends. The whole world was oblivious to my current predicament.

After what seemed like an eternity in thought, I finally stood up and walked more. Time was my enemy now! I walked alongside some more stores and boutiques such beautiful jewelry! Any diamond or band of gold would be dimmed next her smile, her eyes! I considered myself very lucky to have such a bittersweet predicament. Finally I found her the perfect gift.

The day finally came. It was her birthday and we all arrived at her house. As expected, the young men gave her the most beautiful necklaces with the most exquisite of pearls, the finest gold, and the most precious of stones. Have to admit that I was a little discouraged after seeing all of that elegance.

Before I left, I handed her mom a small box wrapped in simple but happy wrapping paper.

Later that evening, her mother gave Elena the gift from Pierre. Inside the small, carefully wrapped box was a small bag of flower seeds. It was a simple gift, but something more natural and beautiful to look at than all the jewelry she received that evening. From one flower, many more can grow. Elena’s heart was warmed when the flowers finally blossomed in the small flower bed outside her window. They were small, white bells. The final wave of warmth in her heart was the poem that accompanied her gift:

With You

My life is a garden,

And you are its most beautiful flower,

Your love is my rain,

And your eyes, a stars’ shower;

The sun shines brighter

When I’m with you,

I hope you feel it when

You’re with me too;

It’s something very special when

We’re together in harmony,

Together for another day,

Making another happy memory;

My life is a garden,

And you are its most beautiful flower,

Your love is my rain,

And your eyes, a stars’ shower.

Happy birthday,

Pierre