I guess you can say we have a history.
It all started in grade two or three.
When Valentines Day gifts were given,
all those candy and cards that was loving and liven.
I would have really tried to get my fill,
if I had known from then it would all be down hill.
For some reason to me Cupid took a shine.
I became his personal joke, his pleasure sublime
Not just one day a year did he come to call,
nope, he would show up spring, summer, winter or fall.
When he needed a pick me up, he would run me down.
I was his puppet, his jester, his joker, his clown.
For almost three decades his aim was dead on and steady.
It mattered not if her name was Sandra, Amy, Alice or Betty.
He would shoot that arrow into my behind,
next thing you know love was deaf, dumb and blind.
Really in mattered not what was the girl’s name,
they all responded with the same tired refrain.
You are a special person and you are like no other
that is why I love you, just like you were my brother.
Cupid would giggle, and chuckle, and sputter, and cough.
He once laughed so dang hard his wings about fell off.
Thanksgiving and Christmas we had such fun he and I.
At times I was so happy I could almost cry.
Everyone together and me alone, by myself,
and Cupid smiling that smile sitting up on a shelf.
Now this Cupid is a bully, in case you did not guess.
For a long time of my life he made one big mess.
I thought love was something I would never know,
as long as Cupid kept buzzing me like a thirsty mosquito.
Then I met a woman I thought could be the one,
and of course Cupid thought he would have more fun.
He let his arrow fly and it struck once again,
then she stood there looking and me, and at him.
I still do not know what it was she saw in me,
but in her eyes I saw all that life could be.
She caught cupids gaze with her eyes once again,
then she landed a left hook right dead on his chin.
She looked back at me and a smile lit her face,
and in my heart that moment is frozen in place.
Now you may notice there is not much love to be found,
and lately Cupid does not seem to be flitting around.
There is a reason, if you will let me explain.
The cause for this is quite simple and plain.
You see I found at last my Valentine Heaven,
I now live Valentines Day three hundred sixty five, twenty four seven.
Cupid, well he still sometimes goes into a rage.
He stomps, jumps, shouts, and rattles his gage.
We just laugh at the poor thing as we give him a grin,
then my wife grabs his bow, takes aim, then shoots me again.

02/02/2010

Posted on 02/03/2010
Copyright © 2024 Charles M Harrison