So much we hear that “Love’s” the Answer true
That numb we be to wisest words e’er said.
What can we do to right this wrong, what do?
We know ‘tis true, if e’er we have most cared.
The world would self-destruct if Love not here.
Creation would fall of weight its own, for sure.
These be not words unthought by me, not mere
Prattling of thought uncouth or thoughts that lure
With good anticipation—but do mean
A bit of glory, truth to tell indeed.
These words of Love are potent, sure, nay dream
They mean the world to us on earth, in seed.
The flower that blossoms from all Love is true.
It keeps us safe in world unsure—n’er rue!