Oh, the yeses and no’s, chocolates, vanillas,

Blues and yellows, fuchsias, manilas –

I’m afraid I can be quite undecided.

Down-to-earth, yes, but so indecisive.

For me, choosing favorites is never easy . . .

Here – I’m gonna try not to be cheesy,

But the world is just so fantastic!

And, believe me, that isn’t sarcastic.

 

Wait, come again? What the most awesome?

Well . . . six-part harmony? A mango blossom?

The Mona Lisa? The Milky Way?

The ecosystem? Cool ocean spray?

No. Maybe this is one thing I can decide:

One thing out and out the best, worldwide . . .

What makes people smile, and the earth spin?

Why do we care, and share, and grin?

 

I know! Go on and guess: the epitome of –

Wait, really? You say it’s Love?

That’s too corny! You mean –two silly doves?

That flirting nonsense, the playful shove?

Sunsets, moonlight, cheesy whispers of –

Ugh! I can’t write a poem about Love.

I know it’s your idea, but I really am above –

Don’t cry! Fine. I’ll try, for you: Love.

 

Um, Love: true, an odd thing –you see, it grows

Hearty and hale in the most awful throes:

Through all the oopsies, and all the grief,

And every hot tear that begs relief,

Love thrives in the sweet pat and gentle hand,

Sickeningly sentim– ahem. I mean, grand!

Yes, the consoling bliss of a soft cheek kiss

Will sweep out your worries of the amiss.

 

I guess it’s a silver lining . . . and it never ends.

Why, Love constantly heals, perfects, amends!

It’s addictive to soul because while it lives,

It takes nothing for all of the joy that it gives.

Pause, just imagine a world without it –

A flat, grey life of dull, dry grit!

Thank goodness, love is built in our bones –

Terribly cheesy, but older than stones.

 

Yes, come to think of it –as far as I can see –

There’s not one other source of quite so much glee.

Those warm fuzzies when your dear hugs you tight –

Wait! Hold up! . . . Does this mean you’re right?

Well –why can’t all the Love songs be true,

All the roses and the pink hearts, too?

Maybe Romeo and Juliet really knew . . .

And then, for that matter, so did you!

 

Oh, come on. Now what am I saying?

What tricky mind games are you playing?

My rational life philosophy is fraying . . .

Maybe all along, my heart was betraying,

Secretly soft as pudding and disobeying

My every sage, down-to earth saying!

Sorry, I’ve ruined the Love poem; I’m straying.

I just –my indecisive brain keeps swaying . . .

 

Deep breath. Yeses and no’s, chocolates, vanillas,

Blues and yellows, fuchsias, manilas –

I’m quite doomed to be indecisive.

Sorry, but my pragmatist mind is derisive

That I nearly believed, and nearly complied –

I don’t do Love, and shouldn’t have tried.

I’m too levelheaded and much too serious –

Still undecided, but at least not delirious.

Please, keep your Love. Who needs it? Not me.

I’m not sentimental (I’m not!), you can see.

 

Pffft, Love, all that mushy cushy rot:

Sweet, dear, and priceless –Erm. I mean, not.