Love is more than
A warm hand to hold,
When the hour is late.
It is more than
A dove’s fevered song
to her soul mate.
More than a gift
of delicate black lace
or a dozen red roses
in a perfect tall vase.
Love's hand is not
made of fine gold.
It's not the young diamond
Sharp edged and cold.
Love is not a white dress
Or fitted suit and tie.
Contained in a black box
An item to merely buy.
If love is anything, it is a home.
With strong brick walls,
and a smiling yellow door
that beckons and calls.
Inviting you to a place
That knows the balance
between affection and space.
The home is strong,
Made from a tear or two.
It cradles your person
On days the sky is more blue.
But through the stormy nights,
wind, sleet and snow.
You sleep with comfort,
Because all the while you know
The house is stronger.
It takes more than nasty weather
to make love falter.
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Thanks for reading :)
About the Creator
Meg
I'm here to explore the depth of human experience and to stop procrastinating my passion.
The Singer So Shy
She stood near the cold fireplace, watching the second-hand tick down to the hour. In another minute, the clock's bird would emerge and warble the hour. She reached up and touched the clock, tracing the gentle slope of the farmhouse roof, then trailing down the lilac strewn side, to the white fence framed dooryard. She wished she was there, where the air would smell of lilacs rather than smoke.
By Judah LoVato4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (4)
Loved this!
The message and flow of this poem were both great. I really enjoyed it
“Some days the sky more blue.” As always, impeccable work!!
Such beautiful metaphors! 🥹 Wonderful job, Meg! ❤️