Love is fickle, love is blind
Love plays tricks with everyone’s mind
One hears doubts, can one unwind
The fingers and hearts in which we’re entwined ?
Gifts in cash or ones in kind ?
Or contracts witnessed, duly signed
Is it heart or head that should be aligned
Or to murky depths are we consigned ?
Although I question its intent
On Valentine’s Day I will have sent
Kind words and wishes and argent
But you shan’t know where (or to whom) these went !
The Occasional Review 