Love Matured

Words are leaves,
poignantly bold
when sprouted,
destined to wither
lose their hold –

thank goodness
our love is a trunk,
solidly rooted, steadfast –
no need for words.

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

18 thoughts on “Love Matured”

  1. I love this dichotomy, V.J. After I read it twice, each time taking in a deeper understanding, I noticed the title. Such a beautiful description of mature love. Great place to be.

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  2. “our love is a trunk”
    Love the metaphor!
    Interesting timing since I have been searching for over an hour for a poem I wrote 5 years ago about a tree we cut down. My husband finally found it for me on the computer. I want to use it for my blog for June.

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