No More Love Poems, Please!

I have come to believe through time

That love is no quite so

As would the eyes of the mother and child

And love in Spring would show

 

It is quite the contrast of subtle fare

A flash and fleeting brute

To tempt us with its poetry

But leave us with repute

 

It is made of stained-glass

To cut us with its fall

Can have the strength of a thousand men

Or the web of a woman’s shawl

 

And yet ‘tis love both old and new

That becomes evermore

Upon the hearts and minds and souls

As is its ancient lore.

Reviews

[Nuits Macabres]

To me it seemed at first like a lashing out, saying, "No, I won't subscribe to the philosophy of mainstream expectation," but reading it again, deeper, it seems almost more like a growth within; an idea developing...

Maybe I've just had too much coffee.

Either way, very nice. And I'm not a poetry fan, so go figure. :P