Love Is Not the Rose & Other Poems

Photo by Cody Chan on Unsplash.

Love Is Not the Rose

Love is not the rose.

It is not the petals making pretty the flower.

It is not gifts, wealth, strength, or beauty.

Where lust fails, love grows stronger.

Love is not a loan.

It’s not winning the lottery.

Love is the commitment.

It is accrued interest — an investment managed shrewdly.

Love is not the show.

It’s the work behind the scenes.

Love is not blind — it embraces what it sees.

Love does not come with a whistle or the snap of a finger.

It’s not a drive-through meal; it’s a feast to be savored.

Love is no stroke of luck or strike of lightening.

It’s not the exotic locale; it’s the right companion for the journey.

Love is not earned.

It is given freely.

Its foundations are too strong to be broken.

Its promises are too deep to be empty.

Do not let love erode.

Don’t let it dry or harden.

Love is not the rose.

It’s the well-tended garden.

Love Comes Warm

Love is fertile soil; it’s where things grow.

Love is more than adornment; it’s not just for show.

It’s the comfortable pace — not the sprint or the rush.

It’s more profound than like.

It is not volatile like lust.

Love comes warm when you are cold.

It’s a companion through pain — a comfort through sorrow.

Love delights in the good.

Love wades through the muck.

Love rolls up its sleeves and does the hard work.

Love laughs, love cries, love believes, love tries.

It holds your hand and engages your mind.

Love lends you courage when fear courses through your being.

Love harbors no illusions.

Love sees what’s worth seeing.

Love has deep roots; love has long arms.

Love is for life; it does not run out.

Love the Real

I won’t be burdened by your baggage.

I like to travel light.

I can’t fix your flaws.

I have enough of my own vices.

Don’t ask me to solve your problems.

I’m still working on my own.

Don’t offer advice I didn’t ask for — and watch your tone.

Of course you’re not going to like me if you can’t love yourself.

I won’t pretend to be something I’m not just to make you more comfortable.

Don’t ask me to feel guilty for the things I cannot change.

Don’t project your insecurities onto me.

Don’t punish me for your pains.

Imperfections instill character.

Flaws are a part of reality.

I will do my best to love the real you.

Can you love the real me?

These poems originally appeared on the blog Write Away.

Editor & Writer | Dog person with cats.

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