Is Romance Dead?

I nearly forgot it was Tu B’av,

A day to celebrate what we call love,

The shops competed for money to pay,

For objects that were supposed to say,

How much you cared for this one person,

Without which your life would surely worsen,

Tables in restaurants resplendent with red balloon,

Music, roses and a full bewitching moon,

Cards with words from a printing press,

Make overs, perfume and a new dress,

Wow businesses heaved a sigh of relief,

That they had benefited from romantic belief,

And I did not celebrate, not at all,

No I am not a commercial tool,

But I did witness the truest act of love enduring,

For the romantic dubious, instant curing,

At the funeral for Rose who was ninety seven,

Who on Tu B’av completed her journey to heaven,

Her resting place had been ready for many years,

But she waited and waited, the last of her peers,

Until she could join her husband, and lie next to him,

For eternity, forever, no spur of the moment whim,

And as others celebrated their love with chocolate and wine,

Rose took up her place next to her husband, true love divine.

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