What's Love Poem by Tony Esmonde

I am full of love.
Not sure what that means.
Is it just a feeling?
Maybe truth, maybe dreams.

Is it something deep inside
that smoulders away?
It waits for that spark
to see the light of day.

Perhaps I just imagine
that, and actively promote,
something lingering on
both distant and remote.

I try to grab it,
hold onto it tight,
but it slips from my grasp,
like eels in the night.

I yearn to quantify it;
measure its worth;
retain the content
before it's lost in the earth.

I seek to find it,
each day of my life,
in people around me,
in family and wife.

But it changes
unceasingly all the time.
Is subtle and fickle;
above all sublime.

The essence of love
is an unending quest,
to find, share and store,
till our spirits rest.