WHO FEELS IT, KNOWS IT

Men have left their hearts

Upon her altar;

Upon her mantle, left their hats-

All smitten by her star.

And women like wise

Have dreamt of him

And probed his guises…

His deck of cards, his every whim.

I've  heard of a word called love

Of which bards and crooners sing

 Melodies like cherubic ditties from above

Yet seldom in seeking hearts her bells do ring.

Of what use then is this quest

That buckles men to their knees

And Cupid importuned by ladies’ requests

Why such rabbits, our hearts yet seek?

By

Hope Kale Ewusi©