Finding Love On Trail, Verdict Guilty. Poem by Andy Brookes

Beginning at the beginning, passing a passer-by, Cupid throws an arrow, by what length it engenders, for love's just a lottery
passing judgement needs an arms length approach, love is on trial, sore as it may be.

we the jury find love guilty or not; Christ they say is the final arbiter;
judge, jury and prosecutor but He was perfect love, mortals cannot live up to that, they would die trying.

Egyptians said the soul weighed a feather, the heart was where the soul lay not,love, that's a Western concept.
being happy with someone, love is not necessary, oh no you romantics will rail, love's the essence of poetry you will cry but it is nought just a chemical imbalance, soon put right, otherwise madness ensues.

so we fire up the furnace burning all love poems, they are the vanities that Savonarolatalked about.
DNA the silent assassin wants its way, mixing its chemical brew a love potion strong and heady, synthetic nonetheless.

so here we stand wondering if we loveeach other or not; I think that I care and you say you do too, so maybe that is what love really is, respect and caring, looking after one another.

once the flurry of sexual desire has gonethat is all that's left to build on.
so no I do not love you nor you me but we care and respect each other and that is worth more than all of Cupid's arrows.