When you are hurt you
lash out with much ado
your anger has no taboo.
bids calm empathy a toodle-oo.
No worries about what you misconstrue.
Because, sometimes, that’s what we all do.
Love that’s strong when the skies are blue
must be larger in rain too.
That’s true human kung fu.
And so: I love you.
Yes you did arouse
me when you wore that white blouse.
Kiss me back to drowse.
will meet in public, share a drink and annex
talk with punctuated pointings of their specs
the conversation may be staid or complex
there may even be snarls, snags, barbs, bumps that vex
but between them lies ties and goals: no vortex.
Emotions range, some needing many kleenex.
No matter what the world throws them to perplex
they work at it and it’s good soon or in weeks.
How does marriage of individuals flex
so that they don’t fly off as separate ex?
As specified, they work! There’s no love codex
to multiplex the simplex to high apex.
No snake oil from some slick slimeball guy named Tex.
Nothing majestical or magicky from Rex.
No uniting you with rings by pontifex.
Love is work, believe it. Don’t trust a telex.
Page one of honouring your ties familial
is love true and nurturing, uncensorial.
Then, it follows, the TV is off prandial
to learn each other by way oratorial.
There will be history and baggage vitriol:
that’s revealed in time hubby and uxorial.
Children cannot be mere clones accessorial
or they’ll die unknowing, unreal out mondial.
Let them fight, make mistakes so controversial
riding both order and chaos mercurial.
Married at twenty-
one, my life and love have grown.
My vows must keep up.
Hollow is the sound.
But not the drum: it’s just me.
I’m alone. But loved!
Sleep… perchance to dream
of me as the warmth comforts
yourself all cozzzzzzzzzzy