Whispers of the Heart
Love is not in grand words, nor fleeting fame,
It lives quietly, yet sets the soul aflame.
In stolen glances and midnight smiles,
In little pauses that stretch for miles.
It’s the hand that holds when storms descend,
The silent courage that will not bend.
It blooms in shadows, in whispered sighs,
In tender truths behind closed eyes.
Love is patience wrapped in gentle care,
It speaks in ways no one else can bear.
It’s forgiveness offered when hearts collide,
A harbor safe where fears can hide.
It’s the echo of laughter after endless rain,
The warmth that lingers through joy and pain.
It’s the courage to stay when leaving is near,
The quiet whisper, “I am here.”
It lives in letters that never reach,
In dreams too fragile for words to teach.
It’s the comfort in silence, the song in the air,
A bond unbroken, beyond compare.
Love does not demand, it does not claim,
It’s a quiet fire, steady and untamed.
It grows in hearts that dare to see,
The beauty in someone else, endlessly.
It’s the courage to fall, yet rise again,
To carry each other through loss and gain.
It’s in simple moments we fail to see,
The small, unseen eternity.
Love is the moonlight on a sleepless night,
The sun that follows, burning bright.
It’s laughter, tears, and whispered fears,
The unseen thread that ties the years.
It’s not fleeting, it’s not a game,
It does not falter, it bears no shame.
It’s the soul’s language, the heart’s quiet art,
The endless rhythm that will never depart.
So hold it gently, yet hold it true,
In every heartbeat, in all you do.
For love is the story the universe writes,
The eternal song of days and nights.
