As Heated as a Barstool

Oh, my lovely Valentine,
with your pale skin and pouty lips
you were trapped in the zookeeper's freezer
and I, your gallant knight, of might and main,
placed the call to the firemen that came and rescued you!

But alas, you did not throw yourself into my strong, waiting arms,
ready to surrender your freedom again, so soon, for my love
and, I must admit, after catching a whiff of rotted seal from your raven hair, I was glad.
Instead, you huddled on a curb, next to a brawny jock fireman
and gave him your beautiful, melting smile.

Oh, how my heart was stung!
I felt as dumb as a barstool and considerably more heated!
When would you learn, I wondered, of my heroic deed?
When would the band play? The drums beat? The trombones blare?
When would my name be whispered into your perfect ears?

Soon, I know, your captivating green eyes will smile into mine
and your bell-like voice will profess your undying gratitude for my gracious act.
The words I love you will flow like sweet champagne from your mouth
and I will be the drunken fool who grasps them to his heart.
But when? I don't know, hopefully after you've taken a bath though.