Love

I have always believed Love is quiet; Here with a whisper, There with a comfort, Ready to listen and with advice to offer. I’ve always felt Love is two people, or three people, or four, Or hundreds, or thousands, countless or more. Love is a fire, warm and relaxing To sit next to and hold someone close. Love is a mother, holding Her child, who is pink-faced from crying, But now sleeping soundly. I’ve always pictured love as An elderly couple, walking down the street In matching jogging suits Holding hands, And smiling at each other. I’ve always thought Love is a recess monitor Ready with Band-Aids for skinned knees And a hand to hold while they walk you inside. Love is a small piece of candy That a broke friend gives you for Christmas, Or the correct change from a clerk who has two minutes until lunch break. I have always believed Love is a tiny smile, a Kleenex, a hug, A plain engagement band, a string of popcorn, A comic someone Xeroxed, a friend, A kind stranger, a card, a parent, A feeling, a game of chess, A signature on the cast of the arm that’s healing; Love is like breathing, Love is like air. I have always believed Love will always be there.