It’s All His Fault     
 
It’s all his fault my day’s in disarray;
My heart sighs and my brain is apt to stray.
Wild highs ignite my eyes with starry skies
And swirls of butterflies, to my surprise,
Perform a belly-fluttering ballet. 
 
The fact my faculties have fallen prey
To cheers of hip and chortles of hooray 
With dizzy, giddy airs I can’t disguise 
     Is all his fault.
 
It happened on a grey, umbrella day;
A Botticelli cherub flew my way.
He drew his bow to agonizing cries
Of, “Bring me lips without the sting of lies!” 
Post-arrow-pricking traits are now in play. 
     It’s all his fault. 

Susan Jarvis Bryant


If you have any thoughts on this poem,  Susan Jarvis Bryant would be pleased to hear them.