Her love was like a parade.
Everywhere I went there was
a marching band close behind.
From the busiest street
to the smallest street.
The band without need of tuning up.
This was her love without haste.
Loud, vibrant.
Without need to sit down.
Life seemed that much brighter,
seeing the influence she had on me.
Confetti tossed over smiles.
The street littered without responsibility.
Her love a celebration
without days notice.
Everyone laughing,
having a good time.
Her love being the best place
I've ever been
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem