Love…
…is neither impatient nor fleeting. Desire may cause one to try reaching through time, but desire is not love. A fancy of the heart will last only a season like a Spring tulip. But love, deep and true, is patient and lasting. It waits always.

From “Brushstrokes of a Gadfly” by E. A. Bucchianeri
Sweetheart, darling, dearest,
it was funny to think
that these endearments,
which used to sound
exceedingly sentimental
in movies and books,
now held great importance,
simple but true
verbal affirmations
of how they felt
for each other.
They were words
only the heart could hear
and understand,
words that could impart
entire pentameter sonnets
in their few, short syllables.