What A Shame

A love without heat is what I desire

I adore and I admire,

For nothing matters if one conspires

A love becoming with such fire.

See them smile, giggle, and chatter.

Their hands entangled, playing like fiddlers.

They speak of here and now and forever,

But also enjoy the silence together.

The love I seek doesn’t fit in these wells;

A love profound, brewing chaos; it overwhelms.

These tiny little frogs croak and hop

Bubbling and bustling in their own little pod

But who judges one’s close bond

When they have their world just in front.

Well, I’ll be damned if I’ll take the brunt

Of the joke if one truly flaunts.

A curios spectacle, a bizarre notion

An idea that prompted the love potion.

Alas, such invention is not a gracious lot,

For how it works magic made it greatly sought

But that won’t solve my one and only longing,

To feel the bliss that had me dearly calling.

An ancient conception of undying trust

Is one I’m yearning, alas, the yearner is lost.