things a bit to make them fresh.

You can't compare someone to a red, red rose because Robert Burns got there already. Heck, even George Burns probably compared Gracie to a red rose. Let's try some unusual variations, however.

"You're a filling station rose on Mother's Day."

"I'm using your thorns for thumbtacks, pinning up sonnets and recipes for mixed drinks involving Curacao and flaming sugarcubes."

Strange comparisons keep your poem from being forgettable - from being nothing more than white noise in a symphony of sighs. They also leave room for ambivalence. Ambivalence, feeling more than one way at one time, is a good thing in a poem. Why? Because people are ambivalent about the people they love, or at least fancy. You've been there: You like that someone is gorgeous, but you hate the fact that they don't know you're alive; You love your spouse more than life itself, but they still drive you crazy by asking you questions and then forgetting to listen for the answers.

"You make me want to fill your bubble bath with holy water."

"Diving into your swimming pool eyes, I sting with your chlorine."

Clearly, the speaker in these poems feels strongly about her subject. There's an edge there, though, that may ring more true than hyperbole.

Hyperbole. That's fun to say. Hyperbole, or exaggeration, is something that should never be taken lightly when it comes to poetry. Poetry is, really, about truth more than anything. You don't want to sing false praises or over-amplify your enthusiasm for someone if it threatens the integrity of your message.

Going back to Shakespeare, just look at his poem "My mistress' eyes." He comes right out and says he will not engage in idle flattery, or cliche. His lady love does not have golden hair and blue eyes and skin as white as snow (a poetic ideal at the time): "My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun. . . If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun." Shakespeare's lady love had dark hair, a non-musical voice and even a case of garlic breath. As The Bard says, though, his woman is as beloved by him "As any she belied with false compare."

Translation? Love ought to be kept real. If we deal in abstract perfections, we are not dealing with people. We are dealing with Roman statues or algebraic equations or deities. What's more, our loved one's imperfections are often as endearing as their most admirable qualities.

"You are poring through the dictionary and the white pages, looking for new names to hurl in my direction.

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