Straying between time and space
the fleeting memories of bygone years
uphold the inner feeling of resentment and relentment
chases the ulterior and upholder of modesty
now what is love-i ask
love is a sweet juice which in pressing is difficult
but in fulness men taste and are filled.
Love is December mixed with April
denial embodied in patience,
of which personality expulsion is chief
now what is love-the master speaks
love is the fire that kindles the heart
it is the mind's plainness of thought
it is the wiseness of our thoughts
the manliness in defending ourselves and others
the forgetfulness of our hurt
and the childisness in face of wrong
The stylish representation,
which is this heart
embedded in the crushed particle of the same
love is sincerity
love is commitment, love is an activity
it is an action and not an art
A nice poetic imagination, Ovwata. You may like to read my poem, Love and Lust. Thanks
You sound like Socrates my brother. Rich flow of thought that captures the essence and intricacies of love, nicely brought forth in heightened poetic diction with conviction. Thanks for sharing Ovwata.
wow...simply wow...loved the free flow of emotions....loved it
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i like the meaning behind the words the read is powerful