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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I think my problem is that to me love hasn't a definition Love is a moment, a future, a scene There is not one condition Love isn't even always a human being The door with white cracked paint squeaking Door handle cold to the touch Splintered wood floors creaking A simple farmhouse yet there isn't much Placing a new leather bible up on the fireplace Next to the jar of wilted petals Carefully placed on my grandmother's lace Memories that don't sting like nettles A slightly scratched record mumbles "Burn, Burn, Burn" by Zach Bryan A candle burned down to the end of the wick dances back Smoke graceful, looks like an angel flying Staining the white ceiling, distracting from each little crack My love comes back, boots wet from the morning grass Still smelling like smoke and hay Pouring whiskey into his favorite glass A swinging bench lingering each morning we pray Homemade bread in the oven, the scent weighing down this tiny home The "just because" flowers catching morning sun Hand made towels hanging on each handle, each carefully sewn This house carries the scent of every loved one The dog catching butterflies right outside these doors Like how I hopefully caught loves eye The grass as green as mine, whiskey warm as yours A touch that doesn't send shivers down my spine, I don't have to ask why Swing dancing in the rain Laughing in the living room Frolicking in the sun with this energy you just can't drain Smelling the field of irises in full bloom Love is the simple things The things that just are beautiful without having to try Love isn't something that stab and stings It should hold you when you cry Love is not desiring more than what already is Love is what God gave us, it is everything we have seen These lives are ours and we are his First John, chapter four verse nineteen
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