Love’s no merry-go-round,

no sign up for the day and walk away thing,

no remembrance on Tuesday and a forgetting the other 6;

Love’s no yes-dear, whatever you say dear.

Love’s a wild one

whose hair, let alone heart will not

be tamed.

Because she expects the best of you, the most of you,

the oh you don’t feel like it -ha!- that’s funny of you.

Drag yourself to the ledge and peer over.

The view is not for the faint of heart.

Wishing yourself there is a waste of the work

your cells do without stop.

Come forward, rise up,

no other task is worthy of you.