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What is Love? Poem

What is Love?

I know we are all different,
My problem is that I idealise,
That's the Romantic in me,
Thinking that there is perhaps ,
That metaphysical level,
Beyond just shagging.
I don't always connect,
And although it's complete,
For me,
I sense the lack of awe,
In others.
Perhaps it's there for awhile,
And with some it's never there,
It's a strange bedfellow,
That you can be rapt,
Totally involved,
And then whimsically,
No longer flavour of the month.
You can be so close,
And so separate.
I wish someone could explain it to me.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 22, 2017
About this poem:
The strangest search of all...finding love.

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Comments (6)

  • marikia
    marikia May 2017 Tbilisi, Georgia
    Love as whimsical, treacherous, elusive, mind-blowing, but indispensable, worth all the while and heartbreak, as it is, is a search which may take one's lifetime with no conclusive result, I am afraid, but you know better:

    "But there looking at me,
    With Medusa eyes,
    Was the cold hillside.
    You are mortal,
    Elysium is not for you,
    And love was lost,
    In that fleeting moment,
    Taken from my grasp,
    By another’s reality."

    Having you here again, dear poet, is so refreshing! Kindest regards! wine
  • godsprincessonline now!
    godsprincess May 2017 Owego, New York USA
    Don't know - I guess my life is pretty boring as never have had this problem.

    Kathy wave
  • Macduff5
    Macduff5OP May 2017 Newcastle, New South Wales Australia
    Hi Marikia,

    Thanks for the quote. It reminded me of "La Belle Dame Sans Merci." We do get enamoured with a Romantic concept, I suspect. Unfortunately it doesn't last and we end up "alone and palely loitering on that cold hillside. It's not for want of trying believe me. I guess we are all different.

    Cheers. bouquet
  • Macduff5
    Macduff5OP May 2017 Newcastle, New South Wales Australia
    Hi God's princess,

    Well it's up to you. We create our own destiny. Open the door and let the breeze coming flooding in. It's a lot of fun (and sadly frustrating) trying.
    bouquet
  • CailinCallaghan
    CailinCallaghan Jul 2017 Jennings, Florida USA
    One can only speak
    from, and to,
    an open heart.
    In this, is intimacy
    the body can neither create,
    nor hope savor.
    The heart knows
    what mind,
    nor arms,
    could never hold.
    And Silence roars
    what words could never hope
    to whisper.

    CG 7/17/2017
  • southmiami4321
    southmiami4321 Jul 2017 Tampa, Florida USA
    L et your heart beat the emotion
    O n our knees as our minds dream
    V ivid sentiments so needed to complete
    E ternal passion that words can't describe
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