There is a general consensus that
The use of clichés in a love poem
Demonstrate a lack of dedication
Or a weakness of imagination.

It's childish, meaningless
Dribble, a disgrace
That has the same flavor
As the tall Caffè Mocha

You drink every morning
As you drive to work.
But if you had to describe
The feeling you get

When that elixir bathes your tongue,
Wouldn't you rather admit
That it makes you feel warm
And toasty inside,

Than compare it to
The voice of an antelope,
Or the constant spinning
Of the red spot on Jupiter?

Isn't love a cliché itself,
As billions of people
Over thousands of years
Intertwine their bodies

As if trying to say
I love you more than life itself?
Love is surely a fire,
A burning flame of passion

Not unlike that which
Fell on the heads of the
Apostles, a testament to a taste
We never grow tired of.