Today I tried writing a poem of love,
of what true, real, raw love is.
I knew in my heart exactly what it was,
I knew in my heart exactly what I wanted to write.
But that’s just it; love can not be written.
We can try and explain our feelings
and the way we feel about those who matter most,
but at the heart of it, love is found in the heart.
It’s not the flowers, the soft toys and souvenirs.
It’s not the outfits and making sure we look perfect.
In the end, the only tell-tale sign of love is not found
in words, deeds or actions. It is found in the only
word, the only deed, the only action. We know
that love is found only in the embrace.

© Blake Leitch September 2, 2012