Cupid Poem by Day Williams

I, Cupid, aimed my arrow
For seraphim who asked
That love indwell a seer
Who drank an empty flask.

Though gentle as a dove,
His cherub heart was blind,
It quenched the fires of love
For glory of the mind.

His habits were as taut
As strings on giant bows
Which men would draw to fight
Against invaders' woes;

And when my arrow hit
His heart, he turned his eyes
To her with grace and wit,
And greeted her with sighs.