Poem: Cupid’s Bow

I stole Cupid’s Bow,

And laughed as I did so

On the edge of a cloud

I lay, and embrace the silver lining

 

The bow is strung,

I draw and release,

But my love has terrible aim,

One arrow turns to a hundred,

As the arrows turn to rain

 

Gracefully, they take flight,

Like a quarrel of sparrows

Anxious and afraid,

I await for my arrows

To find their way,

Towards the hearts below,

But the forecast was clear

On this Valentine’s Day,

 

Because everyone has an umbrella.