Love is like a Flower!

If your love for me were like a flower,
The tree from which it bloomed
At this precise hour, would be on the verge
Of being tossed aside for it would have
Perished from living amidst a life long drought.

Even flowers tend to blossom and come to life
After it has been drenched by a rainy shower.
If you pick a flower or keep it inside,
In those conditions it would also wither and die.
Only a minor child would fail to understand,
That emotional drought sucks the life out of love.

If you are a fair weather lover, it is easy to say,
If it were true love, it can be resurrected some day.
Yet true desire does not ignore or give away its beloved.
It stays with it, through thick and thin, no matter,
The complexities or whatever they find themselves in.

There is no need for excuses or to report falsehood.
For if it hurts, it is not love and never was
Love is reliable and is always there, without a doubt
Is highly obvious as is evident by showers of care.
If it disappear and reappears in a favorable hour, then love it's not.
For love is an action verb which at no time stands still.
Is there to protect from a chill or bring you up a ragged hill.

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