Oh how I would love
to write romantic poems
of flaming love—
singing songs stinging
the heart with arrow-tipped
words—words shot from cupid’s
quiver; however today’s
passionate tears
of joyous love have turned into
rivers of mourning
for our loved children shot down
by bullets of festered hate.
Always and forever—
with perfect love—let us
embrace our children
with protective pulsating
passion; shielding and binding
them to us in life as they walk
today’s killing-fields streets;
that the life they love will live
and we with it—not moaning
tears of heartache—always
shedding tears of joy.
And when love’s love
shall have won and peace
celebrates the victory, I shall
write the many ways you may count
the depth of love I have for you
and our blessed children: to God
be the glory, peace, and love.