Love

Love is

Love is tender as fresh 
Shoots of grass in the
Spring; sweet as new
Milk still warm; soft as
Velvet tight against the
Skin; easy as a breeze
Ruffling your hair on a
Cloudless day. Love is
A reason for being; a 
Cause to be; a force as
Strong as the waves in
A surfer's dreams; calm
As a lake at sunset. It
Moves you. It haunts
You. It holds you. Love
Is as steady as a tailor's
Hand. Warm as an early
Summer's day. Love is
As hot, cold, surprising
As the seasons. Love is.

It’s called

What feels like the loss of
Feeling or a break from the
Broken-work as my love who
Is so dear and so very brittle
Falls apart at every seam and
Seems, like Humpty Dumpty,
Will never be whole again but
This is not a fairy tale not my
Own nor one we have stitched Together in tandem to keep 
From crying or fight off tears
Of anger and regret. Regret
What? I did nothing wrong and
He did nothing wrong. It is, it
Is what happened and cannot 
Be undone though it's undone
Us and we work broken at the
Heart or the soul and in body
And mind to fight off sorrow.
And to fight off sadness. Loss.

Passion

Love is a ritual, a
Way of living; we
Indulge it since it
Gives us pleasure.
It sparks in us and
We are urged by it.
There is urgency in
Loving, its passion
Fulfills not just us
But our object as
Well. Love feels oh
So good and real.
Those in love feel
Special as if their
Chemical attraction 
Were ordained. Any
Proclamation of a
Passion makes an
Audience go "aww."
Kiss me in public on
The jumbotron and
Everyone approves
Our mutual desires.
Hug me on a street
And the corner lights
Our way. Enjoy it we
Say when vows are
Pledged. This is life.

Mourning

I will mourn you when
You're gone, and those
Rites of your passing 
Allow my grief out from
The volcano the furnace
The seismic pressure
I am holding together
While you live each day
As less of who you are
Diminished, diminishing 
Lost but still here, still
Mine, not fully mine, and
Not always lost. Still
Funny, silly, bitter, and 
Yes, still sweet. My love
No longer the helpmate,
The lover, the champion
Of our lives. Still lost. I
Will mourn you now and
Then. I will mourn. Now

What good

Loving you will save us, although
I know I am powerless, and my 
Love can't save you from what
Ails you and rips you from me, I 
Know that actively loving, giving
My whole heart in my care for you
Is my salvation. Our lives are on
Parallel paths, but our love is a
Collision course, both perilous 
And divine. Love doesn't stop a
Heartbreak, but giving love can
Mend or bend and reunite us  
With our better, nay best selves

This, here, this is a sentiment
For someone who loves but is
A punster. Lovers can be corny.
In fact, hand to heart, love will
Bring out the silliness in us all.
If you love a big blackout cake
Too, or a buttercream covered
Cupcake this is so appropriate
For both your honey and your 
Sweet treat. Be mine, my love

What will always be true

I love you. That will always be
True. Hold onto it. It's our life-
Raft, the dinghy on which we'll
Sail in shallow shoals to isles
Both glamorous and fresh. I'll
Love you always, when forever
Seems closer rather than not.
I love you, that is always true.

Valentines

Flowers are symbolic
Words are hyperbolic
Sometimes. Or maybe
Not. Love is a happy
State but elation can't 
Be permanently held
On the highwire that's 
Life. We balance our 
Happiness each day
My heart is full of love
A happy state held on
Life's highwire. I am
Elated but not giddy
Just intently, quietly
In love. Hearts, flowers

Tomorrow ♥️

Cool fool, not a tool
Just all dovey and in
Love-y loses sense to
Fund his senses it's a
Common problem if
A fool falls in love, he
Has no commonsense,
Looking for passion in
All the right places.
Sensation excitement
Kisses and embraces
We are all fools when
We are in love. Cool?

It’s Tuesday the 13th. In February this means that the day that follows is V-Day, a saint’s day that for no particular reason I can see is designated for lovers and intimate dinners. The ultra-romantic in me is moved by Valentines Day 💝 but today’s poem is an offering of the silly rather than the sentimental.

There will come

Your possessions, one day 
Will be wrecked by love. You 
Won't mind. Love is, as they
Say blind. It means more to
You then the simple things 
You own. Or the fancy stuff
You've collected. Love brings
A different perspective. Off
The cuff, I would say it makes 
Allowances. Even your pets
Know what to keep or break. 
The marks on your table, let's 
Let that be. Hallmarks to mark
Love's easy familiarity. Forgot
The coaster. Again. It's a dark
Spot. Next time, I'll, well, not...