L O V E...
Itís not a dozen scentless, hothouse roses.
Itís not a heart-shaped chocolate-box
Itís not the scorching kiss that lust imposes
To lead all weak and fevered flesh
Itís not an aphrodisiacal dinner.
Itís not a knight-and-damsel fairytale.
Itís not a diamond promise on a finger.
Itís not a flashy dress and pricy veil.
Itís not a melancholic joy-deflator.
Itís not a bitter tongue that tethers
Itís not a dour, draconian dictator
That states that all ends justify the
Itís words that every selfless soul has spoken.
Itís songs that soar above the spinning
Itís heavenís gift Ė a sky-high, golden token
That shines its rays when days are dark
Itís ears that hear the fears beneath your laughter.
Itís eyes that warm you when your world
Itís hands that hold you here and ever after Ė
Beyond the age when bones and hope grow
Itís never been a borrower or lender.
Itís given free and unconditionally.
Its flame burns with an honesty and splendor
That blazes in the bond of you-and-me.
Itís your rest when you are weary, lost and lonely.
Itís your peace when here on earth
youíre ash and dust.
Itís forever with your cherished one and only.
Loveís a pleasure... Loveís a savior...
Loveís a must.
Susan J. Bryant
If you have any thoughts on this poem,
Susan J. Bryant would be pleased to hear them.