Hell Hath No Fury

 If God was painting rainbows, he’d ask you

advice about the most resplendent hue

and Mother Nature, dreaming up a rose

would calibrate its fragrance with your nose

and all around us, people come and go

not one amongst them knowing what I know:

that no songbird can match your sweet love song 

and yet tonight, I see that something’s wrong.

A black cloud foments in your deepest blue

a lightning storm of crimson, driving you

away from beauty and towards despair.

You’re raging at a man who isn’t there.

My love, it is a shame you’re full of bile

for ugly doesn’t seem to suit your style.