Who can tell us what it is

this thing called love,

who can tell us where to go

to find it?

Who can break the bonds

that wrap the heart,

who can cut the ropes that bind it?


How come all our feelings

are so hard to see,

when they stare us in the face

each day,

do these precious moments

that we cherish now

ever really fade away?


How can love be constant

in this changing world,

made up of the tears

we wipe away?

Who gave love permission

to entrap the soul,

lock it up and throw the key away.


I have got a book to write

of poems to read,

we all have a million things to do,

but if we take a deeper breath

you may believe

love is always there to comfort you.


Love is like a tree

that stands so strong and tall,

like a fragile flower in the dew,

but if you are brave enough

to sing its tune

love will never once abandon you.


FGD Dec. 2006.



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