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Fred Feb 2018
There are three versions of this poem. only one of them is available on the internet. This first version is from the New Yorker in a 1941 issue. It is the earliest version and the one that is quoted all over the internet.

To My Valentine

    by Ogden Nash (1902-1971)

More than a catbird hates a cat,
Or a criminal hates a clue,
Or the Axis hates the United States,
That's how much I love you.

I love you more than a duck can swim,
And more than a grapefruit squirts,
I love you more than gin rummy is a bore,
And more than a toothache hurts.

As a shipwrecked sailor hates the sea,
Or a juggler hates a shove,
As a hostess detests unexpected guests,
That's how much you I love.

I love you more than a wasp can sting,
And more than the subway jerks,
I love you as much as a beggar needs a crutch,
And more than a hangnail irks.

I swear to you by the stars above,
And below, if such there be,
As the High Court loathes perjurious oaths,
That's how you're loved by me.

The next version is the lyric of a song from the Broadway musical "One Touch of Venus" (1943) by Ogden Nash, J S Perelman and Kurt Weill. Nash wrote this lyric. It is not on the internet that I could find. I got it from the sheet music.

HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU

More than a catbird hates a cat,
Or a criminal hates a clue,
Or the Axis hates the United States,
That's how much I love you.

As a sailor's sweetheart hates the sea,
Or a juggler hates a shove,
As a wife detests unexpected guests,
That's how much you I love.

I love you more than a wasp can sting,
And more than a hangnail hurts.
I love you more than commercials are a bore,
And more than a grapefruit squirts.

I swear to you by the stars above,
And below, if such there be,
As a bride would resent a blessed event,
That's how you are loved by me.

More than a waitress hates to wait ,
Or a lioness hates the zoo,
Or a batter dislikes those called third strikes,
That's how much I love you.

As much as a lifeguard hates to swim,
Or a writer hates to read,
As Hays office frowns on low cut gowns,
That's how much you I need.


I love you more than a hive can itch,
And more than a chilblain chills.
I yearn for you in an ivy clad igloo,
As a liver yearns for pills.

I swear to you by the stars above,
And below, if such there be,
As a dachshund abhors revolving doors,
That's how you are loved by me.

The third is from the book "Marriage Lines: notes of a student husband" It was published in 1964 and contains a revised version of the poem with a much different ending. This too is not on the internet. I got it from the book.

TO MY VALENTINE

More than a catbird hates a cat,
Or a criminal hates a clue,
Or an odalisque hates the Sultan's mates,
That's how much I love you.

I love you more than a duck can swim,
And more than a grapefruit squirts,
I love you more than commercials are a bore,
And more than a toothache hurts.

As a shipwrecked sailor hates the sea,
Or a juggler hates a shove,
As a hostess detests unexpected guests,
That's how much you I love.

I love you more than a wasp can sting,
And more than the subway jerks,
I love you truer than a toper loves a brewer,
And more than a hangnail irks.

I love you more than a bronco bucks,
Or a Yale man cheers the Blue.
Ask not what is this thing called love;
It's what I'm in with you.
Hope you enjoy comparing these three. They all have their virtues but I prefer the last. I feel the ending is the best and the truest sentiment.
White Oaks display tenuous longevity
Tethered to red dirt , moss populated
living testaments , etched in black decay
like tombstones marking an ending location
What man did fire in anger from this hillside
Fire for daily bread , wracked in hunger , steeped
in the unknown , slighted by his brethren , ill
recompensed , foolhardy leg deep sagebrush
foraging lonely wilderness outposts , a foreign beast
racked with chilblain , feverish at deaths gate
Hickorys cry golden kin in frosted wind , red inquiries
mingled in dark earth decay , vermin infested rot ,
pungent pile reeking recompense , scavenger trolled
dead carpet , crying in fog drenched stupor , collecting
in leaf well , motif sunbeam , signaling the birth of midday
shine neath Maple umbrellas
Beside talking waters , ravenous , diamond temptress , committing Summers deceased corruption to the sea
Mosaic sands , evergreen curiosities , glass creek- boulder
kaleidoscopes , lapping shorelines , mud foaming froth
hiding unknown depth
Laughing , forever cascading artery without mercy
Teeming with pan , bream , perch and sturgeon
Alligator shell scavenger , water moccasin , consumption
Pine labyrinths , sunless Fern gardens , Snake , Dew , Red berry
briarpatch mazes , rolling countryside without fence , encaged in Crescent Moon , lantern fly obscurity with voracious Aedes vampires , humid , blistering night without end* ...
Copyright September 17 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
LaFayette Nov 2019
Marred in love

Muted and unheard

Maimed by chilblain

Mauled by indifference



Free of my cold chrysalis

Frigid prison uncased

Flawed but thawed

Fully new again
Temporary salient sunny solitary sight
does dole divine delight,
asper this dada to imbibe
delicious draught when uptight
fraught, viz sunkist radiant photons

packets of energy with
life giving hefty might
to warm formerly frost bitten cockles,
which secluded niche bracketed by slight
recess, where perpendicular brick walls

converge, forming mini refuge
beckoning tours ruly forthright,
this solitary scribe savored moment
of peace simply lollygagging excite,

hence lawn chair and reading material,
I did not schlep in vain,
cuz the others didst ordain
to succumb, resign,
and quit living sadness quite plain

(reed depressed churly
elderly lonely, utterly bane
residents), each whose private engineer
within their respective uber driver trundled
each individual along nostalgic train

on this pitch perfect in the main
spring day, they nebulously,
melancholically, and lethargically lain
abed flipping remote go'n channel
surfing and fishing, or

time age faded memories raised cane,
now offer bitter cold comfort,
where grievous frostbitten former halcyon salad
days of yore elapsed replaced with mundane
decades analogously pain

full as chilblain
exhibiting feeble gumption to live
dogged effort to die dost drain
ability (to bow out, i.e.
waiting for Godot)
each oldster fragile as porcelain

curmudgeon cast as deadened thespian
while days of their lives issue sad quatrain
rewind/replay within cobwebbed brain,
one despairing luxury of escape
afforded by venturing via imagination
to join deceased family,
where eternal happiness doth never wane.

— The End —