Ah, the age old question, "What is love?"
Clerics praise and poets rave, but do we really know,
All thatís contained in the refrain, "My dear, I love you so."
Love is not unbridled lust, when bodies are entwined.
Love may find expression...within the heat of passion,
But, does not the dance define.
Love is not emotionís rush or "feelings" for another.
To base a love on emotionís case is like a storm tossed sea;
The waves blow here the waves blow there...without consistency.
No, Love thatís true is never cheap and not to be taken lightly,
For love is giving all thatís you on the alter of another.
Good times, bad times, matter not; once the choice is made
For true loveís commitment stands firm no matter what is paid.
Love is patient,
Love is kind.
Love is never jealous, boastful, or conceited.
Love is never rude, never selfish,
Love does not take offence.
Love is not resentful.
Love does not rejoice in otherís failings,
Love delights in the truth.
Love is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope,
and to endure whatever comes.
True love does not come to an end.
So choose your words and choose your love
With wisdom and with care,
For if your words bind not your heart,
Their only so much air.