Oh how I would love To write flaming poems Of love—singing songs stinging The heart with arrow tipped words Shot from Cupid’s quiver. But today, passionate tears of joyous love Have turned into rivers of mourning For loved children shot by bullets from angry guns. Always and forever with love—perfect love— Let us embrace the children With protective pulsating passionate love— Binding them to us in life as they daily walk Killing halls and streets; that the life they love Will live and we with it and them—not moaning Tears of heartache and lost. But singing love songs: Glory…Glory…Glory…Stinging songs of glorious love. And when love’s love shall have won And peace celebrates the victory, I shall write The many glorious ways you may count Why and how much I love you and the children.