Love is a realm is of experience that must not be repressed
By the dictums and strictures of Reason
On Love's planes the luscious light of passion manifests
The flower of mutual care in perennial season
O'er the planes on cantering hoove
Go the loyalists of Heart
By emotion stirred and feelings moved
Perceiving compassion's exquisite art
Towards setting Suns they rove and rage
A torrent of torrid blisses
Love knows what is best, she is sage
Her percipient insight never misses
     On what distant shores or sands
     Does Love work magic of her hands