Our hands hug
effortlessly;
despite downpours,
we reach higher ground
below the Dogwood trees,
sample seasonal gourmet dips
with each other's fingertips;
we devour each day passionately.
Will I ever leave love's picnic?
Never, my love.
Gorgeous gardens
grow in rows,
but true love's a field;
it overflows,
with seeds well sown
which soar in sunlight
100 billion years old.
Will love's landscape ever grow cold?
Never my love.
The universe swirls
on flat grey sheets,
infinite combinations,
legs and feet;
silence is a sacred space
where passions balloon,
footprints on the moon,
and patterns we have yet to see.
Will I ever discard gravity?
Never, my love.
© khartless 2022, All Rights Reserved
Graphic: Tenor
23 responses to “Never, My Love”
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Happy Valentine’s Day, love.
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Thank you kindly, JYP. I wrote it just this past Friday. Has a bit of my heart and soul in it, I’d like to think.
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This was such an enchanting piece! Beautiful tribute to love’s eternal power – wonderful heartfelt verses! ❤
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I am catching up on reading posts I have missed – and it was lovely to read this on a morning when the news is so truly awful.
‘Will I ever leave love’s picnic?
Never, my love.’
Beautiful poem. ❤LikeLike
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
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