Love cannot lie
Although we try
We convince ourselves it cannot exist
We become chameleons
Averting its attention
Though we try to lock it down and put it in the grave
It cannot be held by mortal ties
It wrenches free from earthly bonds
Twists them open like a can of beans
Tenderises and crucifies us
It offers no logic rhyme or reason
And in this way like it or lump it
It offers us naught but truth
And therefore though we try and hide it
It performs for us high treason
Little Wren 