Perhaps

Love lights the truth of a hopeful perhaps
To a despaired old dream guides all laps,
And mind descends to a heart drawing elate maps,
And at ease irritated fingers rest upon laps.
Women know the use of coolness, hideous traps,
In shadow of an angel sleepless lover,
In teeth of arguing tempest with silence cover,
Preparing unsightly spell in red flower,
Which, of course, to be mentioned, is the best manner,
For a romance, nothing utters more charmer,
To be praised with a kiss or obvious never,
So love predicts paradise of a sacrificed perhaps,
Thus blazed hearts, whatsoever, please their master