Yesterday I was shuffling through a store

And choosing several things I didn’t need —

Lipstick, conditioner, a candy bar,

A gel pen, Tupperware, ceramic beads —

But at the orange cheese popcorn I was sighing

About professed ideals and tedious jobs.

Was this the best my long hours could be buying?

I peered at several carts of other slobs —

Then heard a laugh, and turned, and Love was there:

“How could I mind you buying some cheap thing

Out of your costly work — how would I dare?

I bought you out of all My suffering,

“In spite of what it said about My taste,

And the endlessly more worthwhile things to do —

And no, I’ve never thought it was a waste:

I’m Love, you idiot, and though you’re you,

“I hold you in extravagant compassion.

No yard-sale browser ever gave less thought

To use or charm or storage space or fashion —

And yet I never part with what I’ve bought.”