Love has its ardour
A vigour
resplendent with colour.
A thirst
quenched with fervour.
A rapture
ignited in passion.
A deepness
dwelling into endless.
Sometimes inane,
finding refuge in mundane.
To give
To soak
To heal
To forbear.
To vow
To confide
To offer
To endear.
Love is not surreal,
Yet at times
eludes real.
Being in love easy,
To love is harder.
And as much as
We chase thee,
It slips away
from us farther.
