Poetry is a form of literature that uses aesthetic and often rhythmic qualities of language − such as phonaesthetics, sound symbolism, and metre − to evoke meanings in addition to, or in place of, a prosaic ostensible meaning. A poem is a literary composition, written by a poet, utilising this principle. Source : Wikipedia
Once upon a time, a long time ago, a God was born to govern love. With his arrows and his bow Eros filled hearts with romance and stomachs with butterflies and heads with dreams, bringing soul mates together for harmony and happiness. I feel so fortunate that he smiled favorably on us. Happy Valentine’s Day.
Being apart from you has made me weak. Only to be amended by your love I seek. To catch a glimpse of your beautiful smile would make this suffering all worth the while. To touch your face or to look in your eyes is enough for me to be mesmerized. I hope you realize the strength of my love 'cause you're the one I've been thinking of. I guess in the future we will probably see what will lie in store for you and me; Maybe pain or maybe happiness, but there is one thing I can promise; something pure of heart and something that is true is the love I will always have for you.
How can you doubt that I love you?
Didn't I marry you, eh?
And though I don't say it too often,
I show it in all sorts of ways.
I'd take you out dining and dancing...
Can you find me a mountain to climb?
An ocean to cross? A boulder to toss? I'd do them if I had the time.
I'd give you the shirt off me back, love,
I'd give you me last pair of socks;
And last time we went into town, love,
Didn't I buy you a frock?
I let you go home nice and early,
So you have the time to cook tea;
Remember that sometimes on Sundays
I give you the afternoon free.
I tell you when you're being bitchy,
I notice when you're getting fat;
I give you free rein in my tool shed,
I let you wear my fav'rite hat.
So next time you're thinkin' of leaving,
Remember that I think yer great;
And though there are times when yer grumpy...
Fair dinkuma, yer still me best mate.
Who else would I trust with the cheque book?
And who else knows just what I like?
And when there are paddocks to muster
who else but you borrow my bike?
I'll eat humble pie if I have to,
I'll say that I've been a right jerk,
I'll tell you I love you; I've done it: okay?
Now bloody-well come back to work