Trials of Love

It is perhaps a marvelous thing;
We bring our hearts and suffering;
To each new day and offering;
Of life and love these days.

For it gives us all a unique perspective;
Rich and full, and reflective;
To talk and learn is the objective;
And add to our own experiance.

And yet to sit and talk of love;
That grand elusive craddle of;
"Happy ever after" stuff;
That no one seems to have.

And so we search, that is the chore;
To find that special one and more;
The one who thrills us to the core;
More ideal than real.

`Till at once we find someone;
Not ideal, but lots of fun;
And through the field of love we run;
Looking for salvation.

Explore the mighty power of lust;
So full inside and poised to bust;
Held in by a thin and painful crust;
Could they be the one.

Yet to go and give our heart;
To be wrenched and squeezed and torn apart;
To one who does this as an art;
Strikes fear into our soul.

And so we love, cautious and guard;
Always looking for signs of charade;
Preying never to find the card;
That shatters love's fine structure.

Suspicion, however, has a danger;
Infecting minds and even stranger;
Seeing things as being larger;
Than reality would seem to allow.

A line is drawn in the sand;
A face is slapped with open hand;
And on the ground a golden band;
Discarded...as am I.

Cuzinevil 1987

From "Dark Poems just Cuz"