Cupid's Stand-in Does His Darndest

My dearest Mrs., Ms., Mystic, or Miss, this morning Venus had a special "ask". She said to make you fall in loving bliss, for Cupid's ill and not up to the task. I'm nervous as I'm kind of new at this. My first question, should I wear a mask? I guess I am off to a rocky start. Oh my, how ever will I win your heart? Poetic angel from our earthly sphere, I come with a toolkit to enchant you. I will whisper sweet nothings in your ear. Three amorous wishes I will grant you. I'll hold you when you find yourself in fear. We will dance barefoot under skies of blue. In my bag, you'll find a twenty-carat ring. I'll give you that or any other thing. Hmm, let me see, what do I know of love? We can walk in the ocean's crashing tide, hear the gentle coo of a turtle dove, fly above the clouds on a rainbow slide, carefree as we view the world from above, while I serenade you as we take that ride. I think by now we should be holding hands if I'm to meet the god of love's demands. Shall we dine out tonight by candlelight or gaily pick wildflowers in a field? Allow imagination to take flight, so that you will finally softly yield, and passionately fall in love despite I'm Cupid's stand-in with no dart to wield. I've failed to fulfill Venus's orders. Oh, please don't report me to headquarters.