What Love Is
My love, he is a handsome prince,
A knight on shining steed.
He pledged his love and showed it, thence,
In every word and deed.
He brandishes his sword and shield,
My honor to defend;
And to my foes he does not yield,
Through battles without end.
Before his own, he seeks my good;
A sacrifice, his life.
Without complaint my husband would
Give all for me, his wife.
Yet by the smallest acts of these,
Performed with humble heart—
The gentle kisses, morning teas—
He sets our love apart.
Our fingers touch, a twinkling eye,
And down my spine a thrill.
No other man appeals, and I
Am certain no man will.
His smile gives joy when none is found;
His soul is one with mine.
He speaks his heart without a sound,
A love as sweet as wine.
When life is cruel I run to him
With tears upon my face.
He holds me ‘til the world grows dim,
Outshined by his embrace.
Within his arms I rest secure,
A haven in the cold.
And though our youth does not endure,
Our love will not grow old.
He views me through adoring eyes;
My faults he does not see.
The tolls of time, his love belies;
Young will I ever be.
And young I see him, just the same
As when our eyes first met.
Though some may say our love will wane,
It has not happened yet.
Our lives align, together true,
As if one person born.
United, we can all things do;
Apart, our lives are torn.
Like soulmates, our hearts beat as one.
Can such a thing exist?
I only know my love he won
When first my lips he kissed.
Through life of want or joy untold,
What e’er the future brings,
We have a treasure, more than gold
Or precious diamond rings.
His life for mine he gives each day,
And I give mine for his.
No mystery, to live this way,
For that is what love is.
(For Bruce, 2-14-15)