Love Lived Here
Poetry of Life
December 25, 2023. 9:52am. Manhattan, NY. On a bus ride headed for Philly.
By Lincoln W Daniel
Love is hello.
This is what they’ll call you and me.
Love is I think you’re quite delightful.
A future with you is easy to see.
Love is let’s share dinner.
We’ll eat and laugh at once.
Love is pretending not to stare,
as you nibble every ounce.
Love is ordering dessert for two
and letting you three quarters.
Love is a walk in the park with you
and rounding together all corners.
Love is asking your passions
and engaging with you mine.
Love is supporting your ambitions
anywhere they take us in time.
Love is the games we enjoy
and winning even when we’ve lost.
Love is sharing in your joy
and seeking it at any cost.
Love is traveling this world
and always returning with you.
Love is well preserved
and guides us safely through.
Love is waiting to watch our shows
even when we’re long apart.
Love is touching toes
as the characters play their part.
Love is music curated.
We’ll repeat the sounds that remind of us.
Love is mixed playlists slated.
That makes for road trips with stronger bonds and lesser fuss.
Love is quiet.
There isn’t always something to say.
Love is enjoying the silence in private.
We’ll sit together and sway.
Love is sudden arousal
and dancing to our room.
Love is completing our puzzle
with conception in the womb.
Love is delivering this world new lives
and giving them names from mom and dad.
Love is in their eyes,
through times when they’re sad or glad.
Love is respect for two.
We’ll keep our bar high.
Love is grace in lieu.
We must maintain that supply.
Love is sometimes fighting;
we won’t always agree.
Love is commitment to reciting,
guaranteeing our vows with bursting glee.
Love is giving the kids two sides of our coins.
We’ll raise them stronger to cast along.
Love is prepping for when family rejoins.
Our empty nest is where they’ll always belong.
Love is driving to the hospital
and never leaving your side.
Love is sparing no capital
if that’s what it takes to keep you in stride.
Love is riding the train to its final destination,
despite knowing we’ll have to part.
Love is the journey we’ve taken without any deviation.
We’ve come so far from our very start.
Love is sharing our last words.
We’ll gift them in our final breaths.
Love is coming to terms
and appreciating the end nonetheless.
Love is what they’ve called you and I.
Love, this is goodbye.
December 30, 2023. 7:20am. Brooklyn, NY.
