Cyrano’s Sword

Words of love from her
promise relief and defeat
of evil sorrows loosed
on the world by swords
forged in ignorance, yet

I still don’t see how
harp words are mightier
than the thunder swords
of nature’s fury
striking out like
a twisted tree branch
of doom

For their protuberance,
even swordfish sword play
although they eat not tubers
like men with sword poles
who cast in waters
for fighters and the
fishy taste of war

When there’s pillaging in the village,
the women who love love
want the men to fight
to love them from harm.

We shall be nosey
sniffing for evil before perfume
having pearls before swine

We must lust for a fight
and fight for a lust
if we are to blow our own noses.

Without a love fight
I’d have cold
shoulders
to sneeze away my life
because harp words
are not sharp swords
though her words cut me

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