Chandeliers and Candelabras;

Twilight moonbeams

and Stealthy Kisses

are arrows in Love's Quiver

and strike the Heart True.
 

Furtive Glances

Silver Yearnings

Pining Sighs

melt there too.

Deep Rememrances

photo shots

dinner places;

touching hands

demonstrate

the edge breached

between attraction strong

and Love's Need.
 

For need itself is in-ward bred

and howls in the warm night

with eyes of softened gravity

which causes all to fall into

the Soul Well.
 

Some say I did not intend

to slip and drop;

I had no desire to be enraptured so

thinking Love's Call was an act of will.

But no.

Does the Sun will itself to rise;

the Moon to shine?

Does heavy dew in morning mist

decide one day to be dew light?

Crash down one final thought

carry it to Logic's Door;

leave there a simple note:

'Love is

Not By Choice.

Love is God's gift

of Joy.'

Given only

to the welcoming heart

never the Cynical.