Love is in the shadow of a large
leaf held precisely to cast cool
shade in the summer heat.
Love is in the glance made for
no concise reason except a
chance meeting of the same.
Love is in the anguished ebony
of sweet anticipation tethered
in a torpor of ecstasy’s apex.
Love is in the deep sheen of
elegant mirrors where eyes
beam like starlit beacons.
Love is in the light touch of a
hand, warm and reassuring,
treasured in a bright smile.
© 27 April 2007, I.D. Carswell
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