Fork not my love!
Fungible
my love is not,
my dear,
just a warning to your good self -
furcate not the mischievous Cupid’s arrow
to knock at any an unworthy heart;
ho bingo,
furl back in a rapid track
the branching one
to furnish me, and only me,
(mind you)
with ample love;
think a furiant may rock our funking love?
its funda funda funda!
a furry love
to coax our seemingly dwindling feeling;
romancing with pepper and salt
is way better than
a mustard love
or a snowwhite fleece;
flit I my eyeballs two of love
from one eye to another of yours;
methinks,
time to hug my heart of warmth
to the icecold of yours;
lovers we shall be again
focussing the two arrows of ours
to our very own seats of love!