My Love is like a cherished gift I covet in my room,
My Love is like a budding shoot forever caught in bloom.
My Love is like a melody I captured in a dream;
A lilting sensuality, a pleasure quite serene.
The passion of my Love can sear and yet can also heal,
There is no bar can measure how intense my Love can feel.
My Love warms me in winter's chill but cools my irate state;
With calming words of meaning my Love knows what soothes my aches.
I have seen my Love shed tears of pain as passions overrun,
I have seen a sorrow in my Love from hurts that I have done,
And yet I felt forgiveness from my Love that is so deep,
Absolving me from my past wrongs and setting me then free.
My Love lives that which teachings say as goodly souls we should,
Engender For each other and instill within our youths.
My Love is solid fundament of realism pure;
Not concepts or imaginings of damsels in knight's lore.
And yet the magic that my Love displays for me each day;
Would put to shame all fantasy in children's fairy tales.