“love”

Love is not only moonlit sighs,  
Nor roses blushing as they bloom—  
It’s laughter spilled in midnight kitchens,  
And holding hands across a room.  

It’s gentle words in morning light,  
Cups of coffee, softly poured;  
A letting go of silent pride,  
The softest hearts, the fiercest swords.  

It’s found in notes left on the table,  
And evenings spent with wrinkled maps;  
The courage when you say, “I’m able,”  
And shelters built from thunderclaps.  

It’s patient as an oak in winter,  
Unfurling green when spring arrives;  
It weathers storms, endures the splinters,  
And stubbornly, through all, survives.  

Far more than passion’s fleeting spark,  
Or magic swirls of fairy dust—  
It’s waking up when mornings dark,  
And loving, still, because you must.  

So look for love in quiet places,  
In steady arms, or whispered song;  
It’s found within familiar faces—  
The place we’ve yearned to be so long.

Create Your Own Poem | Recent Poems