What Is This Thing Called Love? Poem by Leslie Alexis

What is this thing called love? But,
A serpent's venom served for wine,
Whose taste is as sweet as honey,
but purposed with your death in time.

What is this thing called love? But,
A rose's thorns hidden in flora
that deceives with a mask of beauty
to make blood pour within the hour.

What is this thing called love? But,
A bungee jump - a leap of excitement-
For which no hold is made above,
So that flesh is made one with pavement.

What is this thing called love? But,
A ship set a sail on a sea of the same,
With icebergs counting many more,
-Sinking a must-, with none to blame.

What is this thing called love? But,
A mirror in which you see what you give.
A treasure for which each heart has store,
A gasp of breath telling that you shall live.

What is this thing called love? But,
The straw I search for in drowning seas
-A glitter of hope in sight of death-
With none having more meaning to me.

What is this thing called love? But,
The booming cry of the newborn child,
The cooling breeze on a summer's eve; The
Embodiment of all meek and mild.

What is this thing called love? But,
A mother's care for an unruly son,
The arm she shows him - that has no end.
The place called home where he could return.

What is this thing called love? But,
The last dropp of ink from the poet's pen.
Giving until you can give no more -
But having the desire to do so often.

What is this thing called love? Much more
Than a smile, or kiss from those who care.
A heavenly gift given to man; with
None more precious on earth or there.

Copyright © 2009 Leslie Alexis