• Valentine

    Ohh, Valentine, hath thou pierced me,
    With arrow so fated,
    That makes me wish for my love to decree,
    From heart so gated?

    Does my love’s image flame in my eye?
    Does my soul yearn for her?
    Does my heart flutter and fly?
    For such love, there is no cure.

    Does my body desire wing,
    To fly to the side of my love?
    Do I wish to gift her anything,
    May it be my heart, my soul, or white dove?

    Ohh, Valentine! I do decree,
    With heart no longer gated,
    Thou hath struck me,
    With a love so fated.