Treasure Island

Mark Heathcote

(22/03/66 / Manchester)

Let her be as Eve was to Adam


Fire a burning arrow cupid
One that has struck its victim
The way a bleeding arrow should
Find me a lover never tiresome.

Cupid - that’s never humdrum
She mustn’t burn like brushwood.
Too soon into cinder expatiating
Thunder and lightning ooh now solemn.

Find me a dark mystic woman cupid
Who slinks all day and purrs
The night away like a gentle lamb,
That errs to stay but not to slaughter.

Cupid – let me incur her hearts pain
That caldron of curdled passion
And that elixir of eternal fire
That never turns ashen.

Fire a burning arrow cupid
One that has struck its victim
The way a bleeding arrow should
Let her be as Eve was to Adam…
A poems seed always ready to succumb.

Submitted: Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, December 18, 2013

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