Apr 162005

“For it is love” she cried, and the heavens sang down to Earth in reply. “Be thee calm, for love like poetry takes time to bloom and flurish”

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“But nay, have you seen love this day?” she yelled back. “Can you not tell him that his arrow doth need mark, and he should scurry!?”

And Heaven replied with thunder and wind, “Heed his love, and do not worry so, for he will hit thee with the arrow of love, Be it on your head or back side.”

“But can’t you hurry love? Can’t you make him write his love, fling his arrow now!” she cried.

“Nay maiden, for know that love is a slow beast, which awakens late and is always tired, but he will come and when he doth, prepare for a hella love, a love like no other.”

-Taken from Book 2 of “Where’s my Poem: the dude, sweet years!”


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