ON THIS DAY OF LOVE

Varied colours of bees, birds and flowers

Will dance under Cupid’s showers

With soaps of gifts in parcels of hearts

Many in heels on tiles of public stages

In fantasies of crumbling perfect sheets

In the arms of secrecy

Others in sneakers of dignity

On woolen carpeted back staged floors

Hoping their hearts’ arrows

Will meticulously pierce and stick into hearts in foreverness

Yet some will wait in anticipation for naught

From hearts of insensitive dust cans

Who know how to eat in bowls of love

Not how to prepare its meals nor do its dishes

What of those to be robbed in cages of manipulations

By Cupid’s unfortunate curses?

Oh there are those whose tarred tongues of lies

Will spark vehicles of deceit into chaotic accidents

Seeing to death of their couplings

Yet still some will hide in blankets of loneliness

Hoping with tears of need

For a future of fantasy

Where Cupid’s touch will bless

It is a farm of perfected imperfections

Cultivated from a garden of loving hate

Photo Credit: Google pics

By amoafowaa