Thursday, February 13, 2014

Reposting a favorite...THE MURDER OF LOVE

Twas Valentine's Eve and I slumped in my chair,
No chocolates or roses, or man in my lair.
Cupid lay dead on the Persian rug in the hall
His bow to his side, an arrow stuck in my wall.

They'll think I did it, killed "Love" out of spite,
Single people everywhere will rally to fight.
The truth will stay hidden, I won't have my say,
They'll jump to conclusions and lock me away.
The pink cherub had it coming, arriving so late,
I waited all week for him to change my fate.
When he never showed, I surrendered my plight
All I wanted was a bath and to call it a night.

Surrounded in bubbles and candles aglow,
I resigned to my destiny at Cupid's no-show,
But when something downstairs made a thump and crash,
I jumped from the tub with nothing covering my ass.
I fumbled in darkness not wanting to be seen
For a gun, a bat, a weapon of means.

Soapy footprints marked my descent downstairs,
Without knowing I stood naked, in the crosshairs.
I screamed when the pain shot through my behind
And swung my bat fast, dazed out of my mind.

He squealed like a pig but my aim was too good,
His wings beat hard, but he still smacked the wood.
With arrow still dangling from one precious cheek,
I painfully scurried to save Love's little "geek."
No time for the lights when I saw my mistake,
But the comment he made determined his fate.

"Seriously, lady you should join a gym,
"I'm having a hard time finding just the right 'him'.
"They all want a model with boobs that don't hang,
"A washboard stomach and a long golden mane.
"You're funny and sweet, but slightly plump
"I had to use 'turbo' to penetrate your rump.

"Are you saying I'm fat, you insensitive pest?
"Which coming from you meets an ironic best.
"You're nothing but blubber, chubby and round,
"Those wings barely keep you off of the ground.

He raised his bow, a fiery red in his eye,
I'd pushed too far, hurt his pride.
But he flew in a circle, one wing badly bent,
I ducked out of the way when an arrow he sent.
It hit the light socket, shooting sparks in his hair,

Startled, the cherub flew into the stairs.
He bounced off the railing, hit the banister post,
Ending prone of the rug, smelling a lot like burnt toast.
With the arrow from my butt I gingerly poked,
But he didn't move, just laid there and smoked.
I called 911 to report the break-in and assault,
Quickly dressed and rehearsed why this wasn't my fault.

Red and blue clashed against my sage green walls,
And dozens of officers filled my entry hall.
One noticed the arrow now glowing red hot,
And the Fire Department arrived on the spot.
I recalled my terrifying brush with death,
Noting most of them snickered under their breath.

The "murder of Love" was declared self defense,
No charges were filed, because nothing made sense.
Cupid suddenly vanished leaving no trace,
No bow, no arrow, nothing left in his place.
We all swore an oath we weren't losing out minds,
And the officers left, but one stayed behind.

"I hope you don't mind my asking so late,
"But would you consider being my Valentine date?
Cupid's arrow did more than just inflict strife,
It brought "him" to my doorstep and into my life.
I rubbed my backside, while nodding my head,
I had a date for Valentines and proof "Love" wasn't dead.

Happy Valentine's Day!