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
It is our desire to poetically inspire, motivate, intrigue, inform and educate with fun and pun. Your delay in life should not put you to dismay. God takes time but He surely hears you and comes when it is your day.