My Heart

Love only loves.

My heart is full of a wonderful thing.

Blind and trite it may be,

the feeling never becomes overused.

Every time I feet it,

a new warmth pervades my body.

When I look upon my fellow man,

the feeling increases tenfold.

What is this infectious feeling good for

but to spread it?

 

The love in my heart

is no trivial thing to scoff at.

It is the deepest, purest feeling

in all of the world,

and it takes on many forms.

A child’s and a parent’s chaste relation

to the secret, sensual rendezvous of lovers.

It is no thing to scorn.

My heart loves as every other does.

Will yours join mine?

Author's Note

For Valentine's Day.

Reviews

[An owl on the moon]

What a tender longing you confess, sharing with us all that depth and beauty that is true and lasting love. May it ever be.