Lilly sat by her window
dropping forks and
If one dropped fork
meant a man would visit,
how much better the odds
if she gambled all her pronged silver.
Cupid had failed with his arrows.
Love had been nicked, but never
bled enough to down a soul mate.
With all the flowers in her garden
sacrificed to the game, He loves me…
He loves me not…she hoped romance
would prefer eating cake with a spoon
She was one cat away from crazy,
and a knitted afghan closer to eccentric.
©Susie Clevenger 2014