By Boris Glikman

It is the dawn
of a gorgeous autumn day.
I am running down the stairs,
quickly and excitedly,
with my neighbours following me.

We all want to see Venus.
She has just landed
in the back yard.

There she is,
lying on the ground,
trampling the bed of roses.

A flock of cherubs
with stubby wings
flit around her,
welcoming that from which
all Love springs.

I approach with reproach,
ardently wanting to know 
why my romantic endeavours
were never blessed
with her favours.

I peer hard,
trying to see through
her facade,
striving to behold for the first time
the secret concealed
from all mortals,
so that my name may shine out
in glory for ages to come
as the one
who gazed at the true visage of love.

But her expression remains
leaving me no closer
to discovering
the secret of amour.

Image: Bed of Roses
Image Credit: Remembrance of Things Imperfect
(Third Pebble from the Sun Variation on the Main Theme) Alicia Pacheco AKA Kuro

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