What is love?

I guess it's like the feeling of soft grass and earth on your feet
With the buzzing of bees and the songs of birds,
The flowers in bloom, painting places in colorful tones.
The time when the world awakens from death, It breaths life back to things, in the midst of the breeze of spring.


I reckon it is to feel the warmth of the sun on the tip of your skin, shining a great hue of yellow.
It symbolising the adventurous and daring nature of youth
The time of waking up into infinite potential,
I dare say tends to bring out in people the summer fun.


Maybe it's like the changing of leaves,
When they brown and fall of trees,
Painting the whole place orange
And it, marking the transformation into something new,
The fall marks life anew.


Or perhaps,
The time when all things sit still,
When all lies dormant
Winter to people seems harsh, frigid and cold
But people seem to forget,
For all things if to start over, must first end
And In winter lies the beginning of things, in it lies the promise of spring