In the midst of this love
The thing you’d hate to catch
The feelings that you thwart
Descending like a dove

Precious, it will snatch
The comment you retort
The heart, like a court
Cases that will shove

Love is like a port
That doesn’t have a latch
For wounds there is no patch
It scars like a wart

The words that are above
May be the frightening sort
As if you’ll have a match
For a man who laughs then snorts