Cupid's Bite: A Valen's Poem

A poem--that sounds suspiciously like a spell--for mine beloved.

God of war, arms draped in iron
A roar fierce, the starved lion
Goddess fine, bosom whole untrimmed
A touch warm, soon o’er brimmed

Tempest gold, raging scarlet;
Venus bore a child violet

Petals smooth and destined pure
Curved stem; appendage obscure
Sharp bone beneath soft wings
Of down, these white-hot things
With rose-washed linens below
Roots earthen to healthy grow

Unkind, piercing ebon shaft;
Spiraling flood without raft

Nimble fingers milk-crème tan
Dashed through the heart of man
The beat of tender rest
Kept from thy very breast
Cupid’s tepid, sorry arrow
Swift ‘tween double rib narrow

List, unmoving grounded fiend;
Passion from lovers gleaned

Angel dark, frame swept of satin
A soft song, mingled latin
Lady bright, cored and dimmed
Lonely soul, widely rimmed

Question of the Day: In the words of the dear witch Anfrea: Has Cupid bit you in the ass yet?

This a test.