From The Bernician
True love is not a curse, a spell or a potion.
Nor is it transient, fickle or bereft of devotion.
It is not superficial, arrogant or materialistic,
Nor is it foolish, messianic or narcissistic.
True love is all powerful, yet sweeter than Marzipan,
Like a gloriously reassuring, transcendental commotion plan,
To wager our hearts, minds, bodies and souls,
Lifetime after lifetime, for whom the belle tolls.
From the bottom of my pit of despair, I proclaimed:
“I command true love to arise, without any further delay!”
Then, in the blink of a cursor, you magically appeared,
And my heart knew you’d remain there, forever endeared.
Our love cannot be cruel, or spit bile and contempt,
Nor will it employ prejudice, to sway, manipulate or pre-empt.
It is never judgmental, tactless or deceptively evasive,
Nor does it use fancy rhetoric, to be intelligently persuasive.
Our love is decisive and fearless, yet effortlessly comforting,
Like a song, sung from the rooftops, enthusiastically trumpeting –
Whatever trials and tribulations life throws at us from the ramparts,
Even death cannot destroy, the true love that flows through our hearts.