He was with her
And
She was with him
Because neither wanted
To be alone.
Love was an invention
That grew from
Cohabitation rather
Than from an interest
In the other.
She grew to love
The way he would
Kiss her on the forehead
Before he went to work.
And he grew to love
That she would cook
His favourite meal
When he had a bad day.
Perhaps that thing
They felt towards each other
As they exchanged vows
In an old courthouse
Was not love.
Perhaps,
It was affection,
Obligation, endearment
Or even duty.
But in the end
That obscure thing
Turned into love
And that love
Is what keeps
Him with her
And
Her with him.
Submitted to imaginary garden with real toads and dVerse Poets
10 comments:
Beautiful, my friend, so wise this is!
I love this!
This is how love SHOULD be - wherever its' beginnings - if love arrives here - it's home :)
smiles...who are we to question love and how it comes about...we each take a different path to it...smiles..lovely verse...
This is truly beautiful. I do think it was love all along really. You really characterized the relationship well, included wonderful details. Yes, it was love in the highest sense!
Wow, this was inspiringly beautiful !!!
nice...yeah..i think love is def. something that can grow with the years if we plant the seeds and water them well..i'm glad for them...others are heavily in love when they marry and lose everything over the years...ugh
Who can truly fathom love, or its causes.? This is perceptive and conveys the enduring nature of belonging. Great job.
More truth than one would guess. Even ones started in great passion stick because friendship and loyalty usually supplants love. Well written.
this is beautiful poetry...clean and simple and oh so true. found you at dverse and thank you.
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