Dear future Elizabeth Barrett Browning or Pablo Neruda,

I beseech you, on this Valentine’s Day, to please, if you do nothing else, write a simple ode to your beloved, your soul mate, your twin flame, your partner in crime, the Bonnie to your Clyde. I know, I know, you spit upon this holiday, the one you like to grouse about and say was invented by Hallmark to score extra ducats. And maybe that’s true. But who cares? Why not take the opportunity handed you by this lovable month and simply do something a little extra kind for the person who has agreed to be the yin to your yang?

As a writer, I believe nothing is more beguiling than a love letter. That being said, writing a love letter can, at first, feel like an insurmountable task. But hear me out. A love letter doesn’t have to be long, brilliant or even that memorable. That you made the effort to write anything at all will go a long way.

And trust me when I say you can never write a bad love letter. Even the cheesiest, most trope-filled, tritest love letter will be gazed upon dreamily by a lover. Think back — have you ever turned down a gesture of love from the one who lingers at the center of your thoughts all day, every day? Nay, you have not. You have gobbled each word, phrase and poetic attempt with heart emoji eyes and said, “Please, sir (ma’am), may I have some more?”

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So where to begin? Allow your heart to not be a lonely hunter here, friends. Simply start with “My dearest bunny” or “Sweet jiminy, you make me lose all sense of time,” or “You look really good in that one pair of jeans.” From there, perhaps you simply write a list of things you love about them. Go for three, and expound on each reason with a few poignant sentences. For example: “I love the way you eat a banana split for dinner on Wednesdays.” Follow that with what you love about it: “Your dogged commitment bodes well for our relationship.” And, “I admire your ability to treat yourself and honor your wants and needs.” And, “I’ve always wanted somebody who eats more dessert than me.”

Dig deeply into how they’ve made you a better human, ex. “I now recycle,” or “I’ve decided cats aren’t so bad after all.” Talk about what they do to your insides and outsides — how do they make your heart feel, your body, your brain?

Poet e.e. Cummings had it quite right in his “I Like My Body When It Is With Your”:

“I like my body when it is with your

body. It is so quite new a thing.

Muscles better and nerves more.”

Don’t be afraid to start with something stolen from TV, movies, great literature or even “Twilight”: “If I could dream at all, it would be about you. And I’m not ashamed of it,” said vampire Edward to human Bella. Swoon.

But then turn your theft into something wholly yours, lest you be accused of plagiarism. Or, at the very least, give credit. Perhaps you pull a Big from “Sex and the City,” the illustrious 2008 film unrightfully scorned by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Science for an Oscar. After leaving Carrie Bradshaw at the altar, the romantic chap proceeded to regularly email her some of the world’s greatest love poems in an effort to curry favor. Maybe your variation could involve love songs or suggestive haiku.

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And reminiscing never hurt any love letter. Tell them about the first time you saw them, what they wore, said or did that made your belly go into freefall. When was the moment you knew you were a goner? The more details the better. Who are you now that you never were before you met them?

If you remain unconvinced of the bard lurking inside you, take five minutes to write these two sentences on a piece of paper and stuff it in their pocket, wallet, purse or fanny pack or place it on their pillow, by their toothbrush, inside the cookie jar, or on the driver’s seat: “I love (use “like” if you’re not quite ready for the big “L” word) your face. Let’s be schmoopies forever (substitute “for the forseeable future” if you’re avoidantly attached). XOXO.”

And take heart. At least you won’t be as heinous as Henry VIII, the king of England, who apparently wrote many a love letter to his crushes, even the ones he eventually beheaded, such as Anne Boleyn, whom he begged to marry him:

“But if you please to do the office of a true loyal mistress and friend, and to give up yourself body and heart to me, who will be, and have been, your most loyal servant, (if your rigour does not forbid me) I promise you that not only the name shall be given you, but also that I will take you for my only mistress, casting off all others besides you out of my thoughts and affections, and serve you only,” he wrote Boleyn, according to Glamour.com.

This is one love letter where the recipient probably should have kept her head and wits about her and written “Return to Sender.”

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Remember, the beauty of a love letter is you don’t have to be around when they read it. Let them absorb your messy insides and phrasings from a distance if you feel nervous about your written words. You won’t have to wait long, though. They’ll be wrapped around you like a barnacle before you can say, “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.”

Contact the writer: 636-0270