Love Unperturbed Poem by Mark Heathcote

Regrets are best, left to smoulder
as ashes in the grate, undisturbed
yes, now they'll burn without closure
but that's how love grows, unperturbed.

Gentle puffs of air once rightly directed
can rekindle fires—thought long dead.
Please let your heart, not be neglected
once a well-placed spark turns infrared.

If you've some dying flame in your heart
already a fire to spark and burn,
you'll touch some heat, residual not dark
unearthed, paint a starry, Nocturne.

But like wet oil, fresh on canvas
still to be stretched permanently, fixed.
You'll be glad you left ochre ashes-
of regret to burn fully eclipsed.

As a measure of the sunrise
-shining, glowing right with you now
so later coldly you can summarise
embers fervour, dying with own two eyes.

A love unperturbed with no regrets
let it burn, simmer in its flames
a part of your old life vignettes
escapades turned blue in old campaigns.