Gems from Drafts: Valentine's Day Stanza

I'm not a Catholic, St. Val,
but just this once, sir, be a pal
and send me someone kind and smart
to love me with a faithful heart.

So . . . I have a bunch of articles in drafts. Sometimes I start writing an article and get too philosophical or personal and bury myself in a hole, going nowhere, if vigorously so. The next day (or the next week . . . or the next month) I can come back and the thoughts have settled into something cogent that I pour into another article altogether. Meanwhile, the original sits in drafts, and like the packrat I am, I can't delete it. I had the same problem with scrapbooking: when I was done cutting out paper shapes and working out a page, I'd look at the scraps left behind and see graceful little curves or bold points and want to do something with them—nothing special enough for the perfect pages of a scrapbook; just a little fun. After awhile I found that playing with the scraps could be more fun than making a scrapbook.

I still see potential in small, throw-away things. I make miniature books and cootie-catchers out of post-it notes and accordions out of tape. I make little desks and chairs from candy wrappers during long meetings. And yes, if I sit at a table long enough after a meal with my plate in front of me, I'll start arranging the remnants of my food artistically. With a styrofoam cup and some aluminum foil, I can entertain the whole table (or at least earn a "quit being a goofball" swat from my brother).

In the end, I throw away most of these little garbage spectacles, but sometimes I hang onto the best ones. So I figure I'll do something in the same vein with these drafts—pick out the little gems and purge the dross. The stanza above is the best of a few lines I put together around Valentine's Day a year ago. I liked the poem I worked out later much better, but this stanza was snappy enough to keep me from deleting the draft for a year.

Stay posted for more little gems from drafts to come.