Love. Love. Love.

A red leaved vine.

Love is like a gentle breeze,

Oddly makes you neither sweat nor sneeze.

Very deeply in the heart it resides,

Equanimity and peace it provides.

Love turns plural into dual,

Owns not though and does not duel.

Veracity of affection at its core,

Ever happy and not wanting for more.

Love softly brings up a child,

On one hand stern on the other mild.

Veil of young age once removed,

Everlasting sense of losing gently soothed.

Take care,

Helena Smole, author of:

– a fantasy novel with romance Vivvy and Izzy the Dwarf: A series about relationships

– Balancing the Beast, a book offering a bright view of schizoaffective disorder ˗ bipolar or manic-depressive type