POEM 172: REFLECTION
Love is a wingless bird gliding down a mole hill
Flapping imaginary wings
And swimming in the wind
To the delight, not of the wind
Or dancing trees,
But her baby birds waiting in the nest.
Love is pearl dropped into a quiet stream
Causing a ripple to vibrate across hearts
Love is a blushing sun in the horizon
Beaming warmth where frost abide.
Love is a reflection of our hearts
In the smiles of another.
Love is you