When Comes Love?

By Steve Wardrip


Is it hiding neath the bench on the garden patio?
Beyond the honeymoon bungalow where lovers meet?
Just where is this love they speak of though?
Is it waiting in the fortunate shadows, under my very seat?

This thing they call love, does it ring a bell?
Can you give me a description of this fleeting ghost?
I just want to know where love dwells.
If love ever throws a party, I want to meet the host.

I sent out an invitation, but love never responded,
In patient wonder I sit, curious as to who love is,
After years, it will make you despondent,
The one thing I do know is that it’s worth the wait, tis!

So, she shows up on my doorstep, love.
Sometimes, I don’t even understand myself,
Truly a divine gift from above,
Hand in hand in health and wealth.

When love comes, the twain is enjoined,
The painting comes to life,
Where joys and sorrows mingle,
Life is husband and wife.

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