Opponents On The Canvas Elate Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

Love, so brave, it'll punch above its weight.
Stand before the knockout count is over.
Pit opponents on the canvas elate.
Love is something you can't outmanoeuvre.
Love so brave, it wears a matador's cape
That says, 'Cut me, serrate; let me tempt fate.'
I've a date! Destiny, I can't escape.
So, please, girls, with this bullfighter don't prate.
Love so brave, in lyrical tone, verbose
But let's not diminish love in its throes,
When you've relinquished and fallen comatose
Weakened by them, heavenly concertos…
When the fruit of love is upheld aloft
Times after our lovers leave the hayloft.