Love Poem

Love
is waking
up in the morning
with a smile on your face
for no particular reason.

Love
is knowing
there is always
someone
there, to hold you
when you need
to be held.

Love
is feeling
your lover's curly
black hair,
and knowing
you can still
touch it
tomorrow.

Love
is smelling
her familiar perfume:
the familiar nostalgia
of many warm nights
by her living room
fireplace.

Love
is driving
twenty miles
through a blizzard;
tires squealing,
horns blaring,
just so you can
be there
to hold her
when she cries.

Love
is sleeping
next to that same
beautiful person
every single night,
and knowing
that
no matter what happens
in your life:
you will be happy
if you can still
lie down
next to her.

Oh, but love
is too damned artificial
and slinks away
in every man's heart
at the rise of dawn,
to join the shadows
and dust bunnies
and memories
of what used to be,
and what never will be
again.


~J.V.Harker~
~2 January 2009~