True Love
TRUE LOVE
People often ask, what is true love
It’s many things, simple and complex
No definition can adequately serve
At whatever age, it generates verve
A journey not straight, but a curve
And in its ideal form, always duplex
Even illogical when seen from above
True love may appear simple at first
But defies all reasonable explanation
Matters of the heart shun the brain
Some think one can go quite insane
As it swoops down to conquer again
It happens, and there’s no preparation
And somehow always slakes that thirst
Those believing that their love is true
Would say never to try and understand
It exists in a kind of void, even ethereal
And even finding its secret is immaterial
Building loyalty like a long running serial
Its form is not generic, but has no brand
Yet asked why one loves, say, I just do
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