and so decorated
with hearts and red roses.
It thrills and
it thralls;
at times hard gotten,
and so often
ill begotten.
Yet who can resist it?
Not even the mighty Zeus
could manage to repulse it.
Compelling to the point
that it'd launch a thousand ships.
History pays tribute to it,
with Taj's, tombs, and minarets.
Art stands in servitude
with a Picasso or a John Donne.
Song and rhythm play to it
be it with a ghazal or a Sufi tune.
Alas, intangible it is
and impossible to define.
Sure enough you'll feel it,
as it drives
or it drowns.
In the strangest of dwellings,
it'll ebb, it'll flow,
and unknowingly it'll grow.
Can't clock it, or time it,
so just feel and enjoy it.
Does it end, or does it change?
Hard to say.
for none's ever bereft of it
to make a guess or say.
Happy Valentine!
