Love is a word
not often used
hastily abused
to seperate fuse
and confuse

To acquire power
or regain
a wilted flower
love takes hold
and the reigns
of reason
are snapped
by its control
no longer in control
you use the word
to reacquire
lost desire
in your partner

love is loaded
who has the gun?
and talking about love
like inspiration from above
but really
just using the word
to feel safe

when push goes to shove
who do you trust
to use the word love

say it at the same time
on the count of three
it never comes easy
the word love
can be misleading
through cheating
when it gets heated
what do you say

what they always say

love
finds its way

I've always said that
I'll give you anything you want.
What I wouldn't say is I'll climb
a mountain for you,
or catch a grenade for you
because that has been overdone
and frankly, nobody really does that.

What I can do, what I promise to do is:
when your bones are down with the flu
and your head feels weighted with dumb-bells,
I'll warm up my mom's secret chicken broth,
bring it up to you on that thin brown plastic tray
and patiently feed you until the sparkle
in your eyes return.

When you're cold and shivering
I'll take off my shirt and pants
and shoes and socks
and slide beside you on the bed
and let my body heat diffuse through
all the tiny pores of my skin to yours.
I'll share with you until my body thermometer
reads minus five degrees Celsius.

And when you meet moments of laughter,
of joy or great excitement,
I promise I'll hop onto a three legged stool
and do my crazy funny dance with you.
But I can't say all of these things in the split
of a second, when I'm lost your eyes.
That's why I sum it all up and say
I love you.

The bottom of my dress
ballooning out,
like a doily on the dance floor.

Feeling like a princess
As I held Mommy’s hand.

Twirling me all around,
Like a ballerina let out of
Her jewelry box.

My greatest dance partner,
To the best drummer in the band.

After you appeared the first time,
I knew it wouldn't be long before my heart bloomed,
a daisy on the windowsill.

Like the twelfth strike come midnight,
it happened
far sooner than I expected.

Between sips of my tea,
your eyes met mine
and there I glimpsed winter;
iced and blue with the radiance
of autumns moon.

I sat atop the granite counter,
legs dangling
and your coffee breath
pressed so close to the nape of my neck,
where your soothing voice reminded my soul to stay.

I rested my forehead against your broad chest
shut my eyes;
listened to the nagging tease of the free wind.

My eyes fluttered open up at you
your familiar grin radiated the dimly lit room.

Your steady heart beat set the rhythm.
I peeled my palms off your chest,
leaving my hand prints behind.

I felt your arms wrap around my waist
and noticed your hands mark their print beside mine.

I wasn't looking for love, when I came across you;
I was looking for life.
and I suppose within you I found both.