PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

What is love?

A lustful rush of endorphins?

I answer as if I had the answer,

But what lesser poet would I be,

If I respectfully chose not  to cypher. 

What is love.

A modern sonnet, if olde words were staid,

Would stay in the minds of poets,

To marvel and unravel, and cavalcade,

Laying in the beds of lovers

This is love.

Held forth on fingers damp

From kisses laid on lips.

The lover recites with flaccid mouth,

Lines to shiver and evoke.

Thoughts of love.

The rush of lust and endorphine twine,

And poets chase and mimics mime.

What is it, this is it, I think I know.

Ha! you thought, thought defined.

What is love.

Undefined.