Love is like potato bug,
rolling up in a ball.
Waiting till the coast is clear
then springing to a crawl

Watching for the wayward foot,
that would bring despair.
Hoping for a darkened room,
to which he could tear.

The world is full of potato bugs,
you see them everywhere.
Yet never have I seen one
bother a grizzly bear.

Hey if these words get me points,
I am told they will.
Then I am smarter than that bug,
sitting on the windowsill.