Three Poems On The Mysteries Of Love

If I had a pickle

For every time you smile

I’d be decorating sandwiches

For a sufficient while.

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As the birds sing in the morning

And the bugs crawl in the night

So too doth my heart yearneth

When you say “Meh, you’re alright…”

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I picked the petals from the flower:

“She loves me, she loves me not…”

But I misread the directions

Turns out it was flour I bought.

As I sift through every grain

I frown and then I smile.

I’m getting a great workout

But the results will take a while.