Whatever love might be

Divine, a delicious rush

Of a spring from the earth’s womb

A trickle, a dewdrop

that in its purity etches

a clear path

wherever it passes, carving avenues

in the mind

(Or my favourite)

A tumultuous torrent of

Impassioned waves

Unheeding in the rawness of its power

Perpetual

Sweet poetry borne of turbulence

Perhaps, merely a murmuring brook

Whispering sweet nothings

In the hushed voice of a clandestine lover

Alluring, sensual, seductive

Or otherwise,

An ooze,

A muddy puddle

Or raindrops, corrosive – deceptive in their crystal clarity

Whatever love might be,

I give it, unreservedly

To you, with love.