Swift is the arrow
from Cupid’s bow,
where it will fly,
nobody knows.
Will it land in you,
or will it land in me?
No one will see it,
until it is there.
The world will then notice,
the love in their eyes,
and Cupid will smile
as he watches from high
at our antics below.
Then he will take another
arrow from his quiver
and again it will fly
as he sits there
smiling from on high.
David Harris
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cupid-smiles/
