Reality Of Love
Oh, to capure the emotion that is present
by Irean Verge Hughes
in every place on Earth.
To embrace the fleeting moment
that is but a fleeting moment.
To find. To behold. To have love. Real love,
Would it be placid? Epigrammatic? Peerless?
Pure love is ineradicable.
Is it opaque? I think not.
Is it a treasure chest, laden with jewels?
That's nameless and numberless?
With precious stones that are forever twinkling?
Glittering, genuinely forever?
Its touch a velvety comforting glow
even on the darkest night
And is as alluring as the brightest day.
Is captivating, without pretension.
It is light to be embraced. It is knowing darkness can be
Can love be in potions? Can laughter?
Is it in the heart, the mind, the body?
Is it touchable, is it real?
Oh, to have the touch of the unreal reality.
To have it make a path in the unseeable mind.
To scorch the body with an untraceable ecstasy.
My, my, that's reality...That's love.