Love Poem by charles vanwinkle

This thing with no shape how can it exist
It has no color or volume, no legenth and no width
It cannon be found nor can it be lost
Yet we all check its pricetag to measure the cost
From our elders it taught through all generations
As we learn all we can, about lifes true foundation
We see it in movies, and read about it in books
Yet it cannot be captured, In our hearts we must look
On wings of compassion we soar high above
Frantically searching for this thing we call Love