Skip to main content

?WHAT IS LOVE?

Thinking of love, I feel it's a verb. 
Knowing it's not from above, is a spiritual proverb.
In order to create, one's technology must be superb.
And to see the truth, I had to read beyond the blurb.

Then I figured that not all interesting novels have a good spine.
But there's this cute parcel of mine,
Which wakes me by a daily chime,
In my quest to kidnap a finger of thine,
To help ring my bell for a lifetime.

But what is love?
Is it a feeling of ripples on a nipple,
A thought of not forgetting people,
Or the romantic things making sex simple,
It's not just a noun whose bonding
qualities are ample.
Love is beyond the care I show to you as an example,
And more than a sweet pothole in your cheek called dimple,
Nor the smell of a perfume.
It's a little more than poems saying "you are a pure perpetual plume"

My love, and its definition is in your youth. 
Your smile and tone is so couth,
Sticking on the walls of my heart like soothe.
When your name caused the burning of my lantern's wick,
And your absence began making me home-sick,
Then I realized your love is symbolic.
Love at first sight is not at all hyperbolic,
My definition of love is how you make my heartbeat so static.

Probably love is being blessed even when you are stressed.

Comments

Post a Comment

visit next time for more

Popular posts from this blog

CHOICE I didn't make

It is said  With no meaning absurd  The toad is the best  To tell the real feel of water And not by a finger test. We hear the quotation, Your life is in your own hand My infidel interpretation Is, can life be fetched like sand? Some are born of spirits Others by woman Many as offsprings Only one by a virgin I fell in the peasant's farmhouse To a woman who never wore blouse Had friends whose hair birthed lice And siblings who survived on lies Those on the other side  Thought a river was like poolside And had TV to view "by the fireside" To them, life began at twenty While mine was waiting till forty. Weeding, pruning and thinning out Consoling myself that time won't run out   Producing the golden tree That the lucky kid calls chocolate. Since age three I knew I was getting late But whose choice is it Being unworthy or dear To be born with silver wear Or be birthed a misfit Had we, those in my shoe We the unlucky ones Without any choice, not once Come across...
5 comments
Read more

DUTIFUL or BUTIFUL

Many are they  Formed by clay Others by sand Molded with hand. Touch not, was the command Why not, we duly demand Forgetting our ultimate duty Is upholding alginate beauty. How sad! None ever had Successfully done that. It isn't easy but, This fine girl Has a story to tell. To avoid a lengthy reading vice, She poemed this advice. Dutiful or butiful The former is a delight The latter isn't right Twins are counted as ones Although born at once, Their destiny only comes by chance. Everyone is beautiful, Very few however, are dutiful. Digging for gold hidden  Where benignly forbidden Doesn't take courage  But desire for such voyage  Suitors of truth and falsehood Far and within the neighborhood Who in your despair strongly stood Behind you as pillar that never shook May be fished out by common hook Helpers may fade Lovers may jade Money may not be there to take Especially when duty is at stake But personality A twin of integrity Faith of persistence Dimpled smile of beau...
Post a Comment
Read more