It’s the weekend of love
And we’re to look for our perfect mates
It’s all about hearts, chocolates, cooing doves,
Saps to take with us to our perfect dates.
Valentine’s Day romance is upon us!
The advertisers will make a holiday of illness.
Damn that saint and this celebration eponymous.
In quiet restaurants, love songs shatter the stillness.
We swipe right furiously on Tinder.
We answer mails hurriedly on OKC.
We decide we don’t need warm, clever, and tender.
No misspelling nor marriage status do we see.
This weekend of romance aids a lifetime of pain.
It is for love then that from dating and men do we abstain.
Disclaimer: This is superbly atrocious but an experiment, and it takes me one step closer to making 2015 the Year of Sonnets. I’ve cracked a Shakespearean without the iambic pentametre nonsense, but, Insha Allah, that too will happen soon. Written as a Sunflower in the BWW: Poetry (Classic), which everyone who loves words and language should join. Like that.