“Love”

Love is a lantern in the dusk,  
A softly burning, amber flame,  
It needs no marble, gold, or musk—  
Just gentle hope, and lover’s name.

It tiptoes in where daylight wanes,  
With whispered secrets, shy and kind,  
And in its arms, all sorrow wanes—  
No greater refuge can we find.

It lives in laughter, tucked in eyes,  
In wrinkled hands, in midnight talks,  
In letters sent, in long goodbyes,  
And every step two dreamers walk.

It’s wilder than the ocean’s sigh,  
Yet gentle as a morning tune;  
It’s written high across the sky  
And hummed beneath a waning moon.

Love makes a garden of the soul—  
The roses bloom, the thorns forgiven,  
It takes what’s broken, makes it whole,  
And sings what can’t be spoken, given.

So hold it softly, hold it dear,  
For love, once tended, grows anew—  
A word, a touch, a falling tear—  
The world remade for hearts so true.

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