Today’s the second month and fourteenth day
of yet another year. When paper hearts
are cut from folded pink and Love portrayed
as a cartoon infant, blind and armed with darts
to skewer Spring’s first sons. Meanwhile pitchmen
ply their wares: the ‘forever’ diamond ring
the lingerie to make love young again,
and cut flowers already withering.
How much for all the baubles bought and sold?
For all the trinket-words and token-vows
whether breathed in air or stamped in gold?
The body’s love is in the broken boughs,
in spilled blood-sap and fallen fruit and seed;
it is our veins, not paper hearts, that bleed.
Other love poems here on Moss Kingdom: Love is Not All by Edna St. Vincent Millay, Paper Hearts, Les Bijoux by Charles Baudelaire (translated by Jacques LeClercq), A Seduction: in Four Seasons, La Petite Mort: a breath of agony, Sonnet 28 from “14 Lines”, Elegy 20 To His Mistress Going to Bed by John Donne, Non Sum Qualis Eram Bonae Sub Regno Cynarae by Ernest Dowson, Roll On Columbia: a sonnet for our tenth anniversary.
For more poems exploring multi-syllabic rhymes here on Moss Kingdom, check out these: Panda Loose in My Brain, Jonah, Come Thou Dayspring, I Love it When you Call me Khaleesi, Paper Hearts, Does God still have a body?