Love is Born of Aspen Leaves

In the shade and Flutter of Foxglove trees

It’s first word is Laughter, first steps like dew drops in the Vale

Love plays games with little stones across the skipping pond,

Blooming Lilies by the shore, open as hearts of fire in the sunshine

Love grows up on Dusty Roads,

In wintry lanes and Church Pews

It wanders, lonely as a cloud

Looking, waiting for a friend not found

One day it finds its other

Sooner days for father, mother

Settled, nestled with each other

Hearts glow and flicker,

With the warmth of their home

Soon little loves abound,

Unending treasures swarm

Love grows old, yet still is spry

It’s home long gone, but it can’t die

Retiring, soon to newer grounds

Returning, rested to the trees

Love lives on in Aspen Leaves

The little things we never see

Warming hearts with coals joy

Consoling hearts with Nature’s employ

I have often thought about what it would be like to know Love as something more than a feeling. This poem is an attempt to give Love a place to live, to see how it grows and where we can find it when we feel lost.