Picking flowers

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She loves me
She loves me not,

She at the very least
Has to Find me
Somewhat
Entertaining,

But there
in which
Stands boldly
the caveat.

Too much
Of a good thing
Smothers

And when nervous
I tend to do that
a whole lot.

Coy
is the name
of the game,

Making a scene of chess
Out of lovers
Who are too afraid
Of the “love me not”‘s

  1. Too bad that game must be played by rules to old to recall their source…happy V-day.

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