Cupid Plucks

Cupid Plucks

Cupid plucks the heartstring of a hapless, hopeless Beau
who’s object of affection is a faithless, feckless Rose.

Beau brought her dandy candy and he gave her shiny beeds,
he even tried to liquor up, a method mostly guaranteed.

But Rose just wasn’t biting, she played a cold go-fish;
Beau cast his bait but couldn’t snag the trophy that he wished.

Music charms a savage breast, perhaps a serenade
could pluck a wild Rose in a pleasant garden glade.

Beau tried out a banjo pick beneath her snooty nose
but only felt a finger prick upon the thorny Rose.

Candy, gifts, and banjo muse all failed to impress her
but still his urges Rose again, Beau wanted to undress her.

A forceful hand was Beau’s next plan to win reluctant favor
but soon a Rose with pointed tose gave Beau a high-pitched quaver.

Depression wrapped up with a Beau, a box of bleary pain,
St. Valentine is just a jerk and Cupid plucks in vain.

Author's note: ▼

16 lines, entered in the February 2021 round of the The Bard's Hall Contest

Prompt: Slam Cupid! We want you to write your "best" 1-Star-Rating worthy poetry!

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The Bard's Hall Contest  (13+) APRIL: Flash Fiction, 500 word limit. #981150 by StephBee - House Targaryen