Love the feeling oh so endearing.
Is thought mythical to the cynical.
When in abundance there is no redundance.
Enraptures all that our heart captures.
Sets ablaze the things in our gaze.
Freezes time and yet breezes bye.
In our ritual we desire it perpetual.
Reaching it’s full wraps the mind like wool.
Out of view still keeps it’s hue.
Distance means nothing to its existence.
When unraveled we have traveled.
Love portraying a dove, just like art will fill our heart.