Danny lay in his bed one November night. He let his thoughts wonder, Danny thought of Sam the only other person he really cared for. She was just amazing, he had been her first kiss and so it seemed right that she would be his first real love.

For the longest time Danny thought that he was incapable of loving, sure he had the occasional crush, but that wasn't love that was admiration, infatuation, and a number of other things.

Sam, he thought of her soft skin and spunky personality. Once he had attempted to draw a picture of her, realism, very different from his usual style. He was pretty proud of it but she seemed not to care. The picture was a soft one drawn in pencil and framed in a heart, her hair looked like it was gently lifted in the air, and she had a crooked smirk that seemed to fit her personality.

He had wanted to use the picture to show how much he really cared. The compete lack of enthusiasm showed that she either didn't get it or she didn't care. He thought of just saying the three simple words, but they had worn out and didn't really mean any thing any more.

Maybe valentine's day, he would be sixteen by then and have his license. He could pack a beautiful lunch, and get non alcoholic champagne. And get her a box of chocolates, they could eat them together under a large tree in his favorite park then feed ducks afterward and go on a walk to the most romantic place he knows. Then with the streams flowing around them and the soft breeze whispering threw the trees, he could give Sam a beautiful necklace perfectly suited to her taste. She would wear it always, and always think of him.

No, that wouldn't work, she would make a joke about the fake champagne, there would be no ducks there at that time of year and she doesn't like the cold and of course Danny knows nothing about jewelry so how would he get the perfect gift. Not to mention that she doesn't like sweet things.

Maybe he should think closer, maybe Christmas. They could take public transportation in to the city. They put up lights, all beautiful and glittering and they could walk the streets holding hands, just the two of them, talking and wondering the streets. As happy as ever, they could catch the last train home.

But again Danny was short handed by the fact that she didn't like the cold. Danny really likes the cold, the girls in coat and long scarves. Danny loves winter but Sam hates snow. Danny heart dropped at this thought.

He could take her to the movies and they could see any thing she wants, he knows a theater where they could push up the arm rests and sit watching and cuddle. No Danny is broke and it ruins the mood when there parents have to drop them off and pick them up, he could wait until he can drive. But who wants to wait that long.

Danny rolled over in the bed, he was stumped he couldn't think of a single perfect date. He cold take her to a stake house, she's a vegetarian. He could take her to a small café, driving problems again. He could take her to a warm little book store he knew that smelled of coffee and old books, but he didn't know how she felt about that.

So many other ideas sprang to life in his head, and just as quickly died. He sighed, sitting up in bed, rubbing the tired out of his eyes. An idea sparked.

Maybe, just maybe, he could. He remembered how she was always trying to write poetry. Danny is not much of a poet, but if it was for Sam than he could do any thing. He sung his legs off the bed and reached for his lap top.

He began to type late in to the night. This one poem was going to be the most perfect thing ever. He spent hours revising rewriting and thinking it over and over. He printed it out; it was the perfect collection of how he felt for her, for every thing. He took a match and burned the edges carefully then drew soft destines in pencil around the words; he took some of jazzes perfume he found in the bathroom that smelled faintly of roses.

Finally it was ready; he clipped a rose off a bush out side carefully, just for good measure. Even though it was late at night he walked over to her house. He slipped the poem into her slightly open window weighing it down with a heart shaped rock he found a wile ago. He left it there smiling to him self, wishing to see her face when she reads it. He walked home the pale moon over head casting its lonely light to the happy love sick boy walking though the streets.