Call It What They May

Over millennia man has attempted

Foolishly, if not blindly,

To describe this kismet kindness,

Received and bestowed richly,

Upon mere mortals,

The most undeserving,

Yet we stand a lifetime wondering,

If our fondness bears a beauty,

A something worthy of being,

The one love to cornerstone,

All things,

And in this I am certainly,

Convinced that your heart,

Is the one thing,

That stands out in all its beating,

As the one most splendid thing,

Fitting to my longings,

And satiating my wantings.

That has altered the forever,

Of this life.

Call it lust, infatuation,

Call it anything,

Popular custom whims in this season,

When two lovers find their reason,

In the eyes of each other,

Gleaming,

Drawing upon the purest,

Of all nature’s simplicities,

To be forever seeking,

Safety in being,

Bare,

Raw, feeling,

All, but never kneeling,

To another’s term for this thing,

Because it is ours.