Gotcha
Tingly skies full of surprise
oh how I love when with surmise,
the little rascal aims his dart
as if it were, poetic art !
Arrow friend or arrow foe,
until it hits you won't know;
the blush of love where friendship lived,
or ground to pulp, put through a sieve.
ln the lab of chemisty
scientists create a key~
attract with this, repell with that,
believe in us you won't fall flat!
Is it not just happenstance,
just the right place in the dance,
or up the stair instead of down,
he did not smile so you must frown?
Love is still a lottery,
you the fragile pottery~
when cupid's arrow aims for you,
there isn't much that you can do!
|