Real Thing (poem) by John Herlihy on AuthorsDen

Real Thing
by John Herlihy → (All Poetry by John Herlihy)
Sunday, April 21, 2024 Rated "G" by the Author.

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-- The Real Thing -- by John Herlihy Ah, but the mystery of love, A thing we wish to capture. The flight of a soaring dove, Leading to realms of rapture. Searching for one’s identity, In the mirror of the loved one. Resolution to life’s mystery, Of shadows and light spun. Yet in the heart of love, A shocking secret laid bare. At the cliff’s edge a shove, To shatter one’s inner prayer. Love that was once fire, Has now turned to ash. The spear of love’s desire, Only to vanish in a flash. As miracle in compromise, A mask love only resembled. Fake smiles, the false eyes, Mask of another assembled. Suddenly the love unreal, The texture of the face torn. False love one’s heart to steal, Now wearing a cloak outworn. The love as seeing of the blind, Only taste and touch aware. Followed by feelings unkind, The lover’s eyes only stare. Love as an unreal thing, Brings sadness within me. Whereas love as a real thing, Touches everything within me. - - - - - Copyright © John Herlihy Friday 15 March 2024

Reviewed by Jms Bell

Reviewed on June 18, 2024

ON THIS EARTHEN SHORE, WITHIN THE BOUNDARIES OF THIS PLANET, IF ONE IS BLESSED TO FIND...LOVE THAT IS RECIPROCAL, THEN THEY HAVE FOUND A TRUE TREASURE. HERE TODAY BUT GONE TOMORROW IS THE COMMON OCCURENCE OF THIS FIERY GIFT WHICH OFTEN FLICKERS AND DIES. THE HUMAN HEART WITHSTANDS MUCH WHILE PLACATING ITSELF WITH THE FACT THAT EVEN IF ONLY FOR A SHORT TIME TO HAVE KNOWN IT ...IS BETTER THAN NOT TO HAVE KNOWN IT ALL AND THIS IS TRUE TO A CERTAIN DEGREE. HOWEVER, YOUR TITLE HAS HIT ON THE ANSWER...THE 'REAL THING'. THERE IS A LOVE, ONCE DESCRIBED AS '...A FIRE SHUT-UP IN ONES BONES...', WHICH SURGES WITHIN EACH OF US AND IT IS CONSTANT, SURE AND WILL NEVER LEAVE, REAL LOVE! 'HIS' LOVE IS REAL, FOR 'HE IS' LOVE! AMEN. WONDERFUL, PRODDING WORK! LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...HIS+INSPIRATIONS

Reviewed by JMS BELL

Reviewed by Rebecca McKeehan

Reviewed on April 21, 2024

As a romance writer, I think there's love and then there's Love. Love can be fleeting, fueled by basic desire or emotional need alone. Then it's rather like a souffle in that it swells but can so easily deflate. There's no real substance to it and yet it is love, in an embryonic fashion. But then there's Love. Perhaps it starts as love but then it strengthens, grows, gains the substance needed to become Love, the kind that puts down deep roots. The kind that has to be torn up by those roots to die. All too often I think people don't give love the chance to put down those roots. They don't nurture them and protect them. Then they wonder why they can't find Love. That's because Love isn't something that justs happens. It may start as love, but to become Love, you have to be willing to put in the time, the care, and you have to be willing to risk nothing less than your heart.

Rebecca

Reviewed by Odin odin@aflx.com

The full breadth of love is brought forward in this analysis of what it is and what it is not. I'm working on a poem now that is opposite in hope to this, as it is not of personal experience or threat. Just getting the head cleared. Thank you for posting this, as it is a warm cup of tea to my mood today.