Love
LOVE is not always easy in itself to give.But the essence of life-is in which we liveThe love of a parent for a childAt the beginning still meek and mild.
Love can be given, it doesn't cost
Sometimes it is showered by never lost.
It colours our lives, like a grilliant gem
You give away and it returns again.
The language of love, it is sometimes said,
Can be fiery and tempered, yet never ill read
It is not always easy, maybe hard to define
But clear to succumb with a free heart and mind.
People have written, with the passage of time
How love's own path is ever sublime.
It is beauth and seeing special things
Like a soaring bird, when your heart has wings.
Mrs B M Woolnough
West Chiltington