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A Love Poem
The morning is still, and quiet.
The idea of love,
Seems an unexpected thing.
Far from home,
Out at sea,
A rough rider,
Makes a big splash,
Love hurts sometime,
This is also unexpected.
My first thought is romantic love,
But there are so many things
And people to love,
Apart from romance.
Often a love we forget is our work,
I dream of it at night,
It makes me whole,
It invites me to be me,
I can't wait for each day to begin,
The opportunity to be in my work,
I have heard some people don't like their work,
This would make me sad,
My work is my life,
My expression.
And I think of you....
You have turned from me,
Shall I try again to reach you?
Does love continue to try?
Over time is there an answer?
Oh, love is such a complicated thing.
Sometimes love returns to you,
Without rhyme or reason,
You pick up the phone there it is,
You open a box,
Something in that box
Reminds you of the missing,
Love is everywhere,
It's up to you to find it.
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2 comments:
Love is a many splendored thing...
This sounds like I felt this morning when I looked at the prompt. Me? Write a love poem? Oh yeah. But then it started in my head and I followed it and see you doing the same thing. It's such a big topic, so all emcomapsing somehow. I think you did better than I. At least you got to the you of love, and you are right, it is everywhere, all you have to do is find it.
Elizabeth
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