Poem: Love

Image by 愚木混株 Cdd20 from Pixabay

Love is the quiet pulse beneath the skin,
A gentle warmth that stirs the soul within.
It whispers softly, a breeze on a quiet night,
A steady beacon, a guiding light.

It’s found in moments, tender and small,
In laughter shared, or a soft, silent call.
It lingers in touch, in a lingering gaze,
In the comfort of simply being amazed.

Love is the spark in the darkest of hours,
The bloom of hope in a field of flowers.
It carries us through the storms and the rain,
A balm for wounds, a cure for pain.

In the rush of time, it quietly stays,
A constant rhythm, in so many ways.
Love is the thread that ties hearts as one,
A journey together, never undone.

It is not perfect, nor always clear,
But in its arms, we hold what’s dear.
A force unseen, but ever so true,
Love, in all its forms, begins with you.

Thank-you for reading.

Much Love and Light,

Brenda Marie


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